


Term of Endearment

by relativestranger



Series: Just MakoHaru Things [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, Humor, Just HaruMako Things, Just MakoHaru Things, M/M, MakoHaru in Tokyo, Post-Canon, Post-Free! Eternal Summer, Shameless Smut, Slice of Life, friendships, makoharu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-25 12:37:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 58,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4960912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relativestranger/pseuds/relativestranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto just finished his first semester of college. Haru rewards him for a job well done. Just... Not in the way he was expecting.</p><p>Rated for content and language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dammit. As if I needed more distractions. Sigh. 
> 
> Thanks for visiting and enjoy!

Stretching his arms over his head, Makoto sighs in relief. The cold air brushes at his cheeks and eyelashes and tickles his nose. "Dinner was delicious, Haru-chan. But you didn't have to treat me."

"Lay off the -chan. And yes, I did. You just completed your first semester at uni. You deserve a celebration."

"Will you do this when I complete my second semester?"

Haru looks away abruptly, "No," he replies briskly and continues, "by then, the novelty will have worn off."

"Eh? That's so mean, Haru."

Haru shrugs indifferently.

Makoto glances up at the night sky, finding the bright moon hanging primly against the dark. "It's getting cold. And late." Turning his head to Haru, he observes, "and you're getting tired."

"Am not," he lies unconvincingly as he covers his yawn.

"My place is closer." _You can stay with me_.

Haru doesn't agree or disagree. Nor does he make any indication of having heard him. Makoto knows he'd say yes anyway.

* * *

Haru exits the bathroom after having soaked in the tub for the last half hour. Dressed in Makoto's oversized t-shirt, he drops down in a seat next to Makoto at the small dining table. Still rubbing his hair dry, he mumbles unnecessarily, "Bathroom's free. Also, your tub is still too small."

Makoto glances at him, "it's not too small. It's the same size it's always been. I can't do anything about that, Haru." His eyes wander to the bathroom, "I think I'll take a quick shower. Why don't you go to bed?"

Haru nods imperceptibly, his eyes following as Makoto disappears into his bedroom and then, shortly, the bathroom. He returns to rubbing his head with the towel.

The last five months have been rough. Haru was (and still is) on a rigorous training schedule. Makoto on the other hand, had been swamped with studying. And homework. And exams. And papers. The last two weeks had been particularly grueling for him; cramming for final exams and finishing final papers. They rarely had time to even send a quick text to let the other know that they were still alive much less hang out with each other. That's why when Makoto told him he just finished his final- _final_ exam of the semester, he invited him to the little ramen shop they had discovered their first week in Tokyo.

He missed his friend. He missed his voice. He missed their silences. He even missed him calling him Haru-chan. When the hell did _that_ happened? He didn't think anything could top the anxiety he felt when he left to Australia with Rin last summer, but here he is. With all these... weird feelings. It's odd. And foreign. And un-chartered. And whatever else adjective you want to use.

It's not like he's a _stranger_ to feelings. Despite his outward stoicism and monosyllabicism, he cares about quite a bit of people. One could even say he loves them. Although, good luck trying to pry it out of him. Nagisa and Rei are important people in his life. Gou too. Hell, even Rin in some weird, funky fashion that he would never admit out loud.

But Makoto is Makoto. And feelings for Makoto are different. They always have been, all things considered. The only other person to stir up even a _fraction_ of those waves of feelings, is Rin. But it isn't quite the same. Not even close, really. Rin ignited within him a fire for competition. Whatever it is, they'd find a way to make a competition out of it. It's stupid. And silly. One might call it childish, even.

With Makoto though... Makoto has the whole damn pie in an ocean of feelings. And now his metaphors are getting wonky.

It may not show on his face, but he feels _everything_ with Makoto. Annoyance. Acceptance. Joy and laughter. Sadness and regret. Even though they both made their apologies and moved past it, it still stung when he thinks about the awful things he said to him last summer after finding out his post high school plans. Makoto deserved none of that and the pain on his face when he said it hurt him almost as much as it did Makoto.

So yeah. He understands the general concept of what he's feeling but still... weird and foreign and un-chartered. ...And addicting.

Shaking out of his thoughts, he begins to straighten out the pile of textbooks scattered both on the table and across the floor. Moving on to the kitchen, he puts the clean bowls and plates and utensils back in its proper place. Before long, Makoto comes out of the bathroom, mild surprise blooming across his face that Haru was not only still awake but puttering around in his kitchen.

Haru looks up, "please tell me you haven't just been eating instant ramen these last two weeks." Makoto's eyes couldn't hide the sheepishness, "all right, I won't."

Haru sighs. The guy is going to die from too much MSG if this continues. He could see the epitaph now: ' _Here Lies Tachibana Makoto: He Who Consumed too Much MSG_.' He makes a mental note to make plenty of leftovers the next time he cooks. He chews on his lip, "I think I should've gone home. Not as tired as I thought."

Makoto smiles gently at him, "well, it's too late now." He glances over at his open bedroom, "wanna watch something instead?"

Makoto turns toward his room, knowing Haru would follow. "It's been a while since I've been here."

"You've been busy. With training and all."

"So have you. With studying and all."

"Well, that's all done," he frowns a little, "for four weeks anyways…"

Makoto grabs his laptop and hands it to Haru after he'd crawled into the bed. Makoto proceeds to turn off the lights in the other room and to make sure the apartment door is locked before returning and sliding into bed next to his best friend. Haru scoots over to make room for him and when he settles in, he notices that a nature documentary is already queued up. Makoto suspects that Haru isn't all that interested in nature in general but more on the subject matter at hand… what with the whales and dolphins and ocean-y things.

They sit with the laptop balanced precariously between them; their thighs flush against each other as it acts as a makeshift stand. After twenty minutes, Haru's eyes begins to droop and Makoto feels Haru nodding off. Gently, he closes the laptop and slides it onto the nightstand.

"Haru, time to go to sleep, okay?" Haru murmurs lowly but Makoto heard him clearly. Makoto slips halfway off the bed and Haru slides down from the headboard. "I'll be on the couch if you need me."

Growing more conscious but still groggy, Haru mumbles, "the couch is too small. You'd never fit."

"I'll be fine-"

"You're a giant. You'll be spilling over the edge… or knowing you, roll off."

"I'm not a giant!" he huffs indignantly. He then grimaces at the blatant falseness of the outburst. "Well, I mean—"

"I'll take the couch." He rolls onto his knees, fully prepared to leave the warm bed.

"You're a guest, Haru! I can't make you take the couch!"

"Then we'll share. It's big enough."

Makoto seriously considers it but shakes his head to clear it, "no, I'll be on the couch."

He straightens up, one knee still on the bed. He's ready to go when Haru tugs on the hem of his shirt. Turning back, he gasps in surprise at how close Haru is. He's upright; on his knees so they were nearly eye level. "Haru-chan?"

"Lay off the -chan," he mutters impatiently.

"Sorry, Har-"

"Can I kiss you?" he interrupts.

Makoto's eyes bulges out of his sockets, unsure if he had him heard correctly, "huh?"

"You don't have to say yes. ...If it's not something you want. But I want to kiss you." Makoto gapes at his friend, bewilderment clearly on his face and clueless on how to respond. "So? Can I kiss you?"

He quickly nods and breathes, "yes."

Haru eagerly closes the gap, tugging on Makoto's collar. The kiss is brief. Too brief to be called a proper kiss but it's more than enough. For now. It's still warm and soft, like how exactly as he expected but he swears there's a surge of electricity coursing through his veins. Which is something he hadn't expected. It made him hot and dizzy and his head cloudy and his vision blurring. And despite its briefness, he swears he now knows what Makoto tastes like. He wants more and instantly realizes that he was right: Tachibana Makoto is addicting.

"What was that for?"

Haru looks away as he usually does, "you completed your first semester," he mumbles quietly.

Makoto smiles shyly, "will you do this when I complete my second semester?" he repeats the scene from earlier that night.

Haru shrugs his left shoulder, "If I feel like it," he pauses and looks at Makoto's grinning face, "if you ask nicely," he pauses again, "if you want me to."  
Makoto's smile widens, "I definitely will."

Haru, tugging at his hem again, looks at him expectantly, "stay?"

Makoto's gentle eyes says everything he needs to say but says it aloud anyway, "I'll stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unusual. I tend to drag things out a bit but I jumped right into here. Not sure how I feel about that...


	2. September

Haru hunches over the stove, making sure the mackerel cooks evenly. Haru looks... comfortable. And happy. Which is, by far, the most important thing. Makoto leans against the door jam and watches his ~~boyfriend~~ ~~best friend~~ ~~boyfriend~~ best friend—they haven’t really figured this part out just yet, fuss over their lunch.  
For the past two weeks since the night Haru kissed him, he’s been around ~~almost~~ every day. Haru cooked. Makoto cleaned. Haru would tell him not to fuss over him. Makoto would continue to fuss over him. His clothes are beginning to smell like Haru. Not that he's complaining, but Haru should probably go home and grab some stuff that actually fits him.

They also slept together; as in _literally_ sleeping together not the other, euphemism-for-sex sleeping together.  
  
There was a lot of making out though.  
_A lot._  
Obscenely a lot. Every where he turned, he’d flush in remembrance.  
  
He sighs silently. There has been so many changes. And not just in the past six months in Tokyo. The entire year has been different and new and full of changes. Some exciting, some not so much. He went from being a carefree teenager to being a young adult. With young adult responsibilities. From the tiny town of Iwatobi to the big, bustling city of Tokyo. New school. New classmates. New friends. New routines. So much of this was new.  
  
But much remained the same too. Haru still eats too much mackerel. Haru still swims only free. Haru still spends way too much time in the bath, making him late.  
And he still pulls Haru out of said tub. He still calls Haru “Haru-chan” and Haru predictably tells him to lay off the -chan. He still hides behind Haru during scary movies. He’s still a disaster area in the kitchen. He still stops to play with random stray cats. He still takes long breaks between studying to play video games.

Along with the newness, came a year filled with firsts. First time living on his own. First time away from the place he called home his entire life; the place he _still_ calls home. First job. First fight. First kiss. First anything. First _everything_.   
  
He's still fuzzy on the _how_ and _when_ of it all. Well, the more he thinks about it, the less of a mystery it becomes. Haru has been a part of his life for as long as he can remember. Aside from his immediate family, _he_ is the most important person in his life. He's known him for more than half his life. And will always know him for more than half his life. And then some. Haru's always been front and center of his thoughts and concerns and worries. And when he wasn’t, he's in the periphery. Haru means something to him. Haru means _everything_ to him. Large chucks of his life would have been meaningless without him; would be meaningless.  
So yeah, it makes sense. Logically anyway. It was all the other -allys that remained sort of fuzzy.  
  
Haruka and Makoto. Makoto and Haruka. The two of them have always been a pair. A couple. A set. A packaged deal. One was never without the other. Not for every long, anyway.  
  
But in another first this year, they were. First when Rin whisked him off to Australia and now in Tokyo. Even though they live in the same city. Even though they live less than 20 minutes away. Not that anyone in Tokyo understands the significance of a Makoto without a Haruka and a Haruka without a Makoto. And it happened more often than either one of them would have liked. Because of these changes. Because of Tokyo.  
  
He's both grateful and resentful. Grateful for the experiences. Resentful for the _too_ many experiences. Grateful for being able to attend his university of choice. Resentful that his university of choice for making him devote so much of his free time to studying. Grateful for all the interesting people he's met. Resentful for all the creepers he's encountered. Grateful for all the sights and sounds that bring the city to life. Resentful for all the sights and sounds even in the dead of the night. Grateful for being big enough and prestigious enough for Haru to be able to legitimately pursue his professional swim career here. Resentful for being _too_ big and _too_ prestigious that his training leaves him with limited free time for himself.  
  
Mostly though, he _is_ grateful. _Very, very_ grateful. Grateful that Haru is _in Tokyo_. Grateful that there’s still some semblance of the routine they had in Iwatobi. Grateful that the distance isn't as vast as it could have been. Grateful that their friendship hasn't changed much. Grateful that their relationship has changed _so_ much. Grateful for whatever was in or about Tokyo that caused Haru to kiss him two weeks ago.  
  
That last one is especially major. Which makes him resentful all over again. Because if his first semester was any indication of how subsequent semesters will play out, he is not a fan. Not even a little. There's only a little over a week left of his break before the second semester begins. Before long, he'll be buried with a mountain of course work. Coupled with Haru’s training schedule, it is very likely that they will be seeing less and less of each other. He really isn't looking for a repeat of the first semester where they only saw each other sporadically; seemingly twice, _maybe_ three times a month. _A month_. Unacceptable.

Yeah, he definitely does not want a repeat of that. It was this train of thought that made him push himself from the wall and lean over the counter instead.    
  
“Hey, Haru?” he looks pensively at his best friend/boyfriend.

He wanted to groan in frustration because honestly, labels didn’t mean anything. They were too small, too trivial. Their relationship transcends any and all classifications. He wanted to groan again. He doesn’t mean to sound so… pretentious. But Haru and Makoto were simply Haru and Makoto. There wasn’t really anything in the human language that could accurately and sufficiently describe them.

“Lunch is almost ready.” 

“That wasn't what I was going to ask.” Haru, finally tearing his eyes from the cooking mackerel, looks expectantly at Makoto. “How would you feel about moving in?”

Haru doesn’t even have the decency to look surprised by the question. “My lease is up next month,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “your place is bigger anyway.”

“You’re not even going to think about it?” 

“What is there to think about? I practically live here. ...Nowadays anyway.” 

“What if you won’t like living with me?” 

“Why wouldn't I?” 

“Maybe I leave my wet towels on the floor.” 

“Do you?”

“Well, no.” He pauses, thinking, and proceeds, “but maybe I leave my dirty socks and shoes everywhere.”

“I know you don’t, Makoto." He pauses and squints at him, "are you trying to dissuade me from moving in? You’re the one that asked me in the first place.”

“I know but…” 

“I don’t have much. I should be able to move in before the end of the week.” 

Makoto smiles brightly at him, “are we really doing this?”

“Do you not want to?”

“Of course I want to! I just thought… maybe you’d want think about it.” 

“I told you, there’s nothing to think about. Those 20 weeks were beyond stupid. I’m not doing that again.”  Makoto laughs, incredibly pleased that Haru felt the same. Haru looks over at the pan and tsks, “there goes lunch.”

He sighs and throws the ruined mackerel into the trash.  “Sorry, Haru-chan.” 

Haru looks at Makoto who was still looking sheepish at having distracted him from cooking when an idea struck. “You want to get some coffee?”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes,” Haru replies, with no hesitance.

Makoto's eyes widen, taken aback as he intended for it to be a joke. “O-okay.”

“Let’s get dressed.”

“We're going right now, Haru-chan?”

“It's lunch, isn't it? And lay off the -ch—“ he cuts himself off before amending, “well, I suppose it’s okay if it’s you.”

Makoto’s eyes grew wide and glistening, “Haru-chan—!”

“Never mind, no -chan,” he quickly cuts him off.

“Aw, but Haru!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really wanted them to have that coffee date, okay?


	3. October

He flops onto the bed, exhaustion slowly claiming his limbs. “I’m exhausted.” 

Makoto whips his head to look at the prone figure lying on the bed so fast, he nearly gave himself whiplash and glares, “ _you’re_ exhausted? What did you do that could have possibly made _you_ exhausted?”

Haru props himself up on his elbows, “I carried a few boxes,” he pouts. 

“ _Two_! You carried two! And they were the two lightest boxes! _I_ did all the work!”

“It’s not my fault you have condor arms,” he grumbles. He pauses before continuing, “also, you’re taller. You can see over the boxes better.” 

“I’m not that much taller than you, Haru.” 

“Tall enough…”  
  
Makoto drags his feet over and collapses next to Haru. “I thought you said you didn’t have much.” 

“I don’t.” 

He turns his head to gape at him, “we had to make ten trips, Haru!” The cruddy elevator had been on the fritz for the past week leaving them, (read: Makoto) to lug up all of Haru’s boxes up seven ( _ **7!**_ ) flights of stairs. 

He shrugs indifferently, “guess you can accumulate a lot in six months.”

Makoto throws his arm over his eyes and sighs. “I just want to nap.”  
  
Feeling the bed dip and shift, he figures that it's Haru getting up to unpack. But his eyes fly open when he feels Haru straddling him, his hands scrabbling to hold onto his thighs. “Har—?” He's quickly silenced by Haru’s lips and Makoto slides his hands from his thighs to bury his long fingers in Haru’s dark hair. Their lips, teeth, and tongues slide across and over the other; their gasps and moans filling the room. When they finally pull away, both their faces were plastered with obnoxiously dumb smiles. “What’s this all about?” 

“I need a reason?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

Haru quickly pecks his lips, “thank you for helping me move.”  
  
He knows he doesn’t have to say it. Makoto _knows_. Just like how Makoto always seems to know what he's feeling or what he's thinking. But they're not _actually_ psychic. Despite what everyone seems to think. He knows that some things _need_ to be verbalized. He knows that there are some things _too important_ to be left to slight twitches of the lips or a small raise of an eyebrow. So while thanking him for helping him move was something trivial, it served as good practice for all the things he wants to verbalize to Makoto later. Whenever that’ll be…

“I’d always help.”

Haru knows that too. “I’m thanking you anyway.”

“I definitely wouldn’t complain if this is how you thank people.” His smile quickly turns to a frown. “No. Wait. I didn’t mean that! I mean, how you thank _me_. Me. N-not people. I don't want you to thank other people like that. Just me.” He waves his arms frantically.

Haru catches his flailing limbs and brings his lips to his wrists, “Makoto. Slow down. I got it. I wouldn't be running around kissing people I don't like.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, “Good then.” His brows furrow in thought, “wait… does that mean I have to worry about you kissing Rin? Or Rei? Or Nagisa?” 

Haru, feeling cheeky, smirks, “no comment.”

“Haru! That’s not funny!”

He rolls his eyes and grabs his face to kiss him thoroughly, stroking his tongue and humming happily. “Idiot. Like I’d want to kiss anyone else but you.”

Makoto’s dumb grin confirms what he already knows, “just making sure.”  
  
Haru tucks his head under Makoto’s chin, nuzzling his chest and purring like a cat would after being rubbed at the base of their ears. Makoto absentmindedly strokes Haru’s back, following the curvature of his spine. “Makoto? What did your mom say when you told her about me moving in?”

Haru shakes from Makoto’s deep chuckle, “she sort of just… laughed. Actually, she laughed _a lot_. She didn’t understand why we _weren’t_ living together to begin with. And Dad said that they were under the impression that we’ve been dating since high school. _High school_!” He laughs this time, loud and boisterous that shakes both of them. Haru quickly decides that he likes it. “Are we that oblivious?” 

Haru turns his head so his chin was resting on Makoto’s chest, looking thoughtful. “It’s not that we were oblivious… we just hadn't arrived to the same conclusion as everyone else until now. Sometimes, the most obvious things are the hardest things to see. Because you’re too close to it, you know?”

Makoto’s heart pounds in his chest as a smile overtakes his face at Haru’s words. “So… oblivious?”

“Yeah.” He concedes. “Also, we’re idiots with low emotional IQs.” 

“Well, as long as we’re self aware. And bonus: we can be idiots together.” He runs his hand through Haru’s hair.

“So your parents are okay with us?” Haru asks. 

Makoto returns to stroking his back; an unconscious gesture of reassurance, “my parents love and adore you. They’re happy for us. They’re happy and proud of us. But also worried. They know this isn’t going to be easy. _I_ know this isn't going to be easy. But like dad said: ‘nothing worthwhile is ever easy.’”

“Told you so.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I mean… I knew they were going to be supportive but… it still isn’t something that’s easy to talk about with your parents, you know?” Haru hums in what sounded like agreement. “So what did your parents say?”

He shrugs, “mom _sounded_ scandalized. She was just teasing me though. Dad, as you can imagine, was wagging his finger while lecturing me about something along the lines of ‘no funny business.’ I told him it was too late. Someone fainted.”

Makoto pushes himself onto his elbows, eyes wide and in a panic, “who did what now?”

Haru’s lips twitch, snickering in amusement, “I’m kidding. No one fainted. They thought it was funny. I’m pretty sure they expected it too. My parents love you and your family.” He snorts lightly, “as they should considering they flittered off and left your parents to basically raise me the last few years.”

Haru might sound as indifferent as he usually does, but Makoto being Makoto, notices a twinge of resentment. “Haru… your parents do love you.” 

He huffs noisily, “I know that.” He pushes himself up, perched atop Makoto, “I mean, I enjoyed living by myself. For the most part. Teenager and all that. It still would have been nice to be able to see them once in a while.” He perks up a little, “it’s better now. We can actually see each other. Perks of living in the same city.”  
  
He chuckles at Haru’s enthusiasm, even if subdued, “I guess emotional maturity comes with growing up, eh?” 

“Yeah.”

“We’ve had to grow up pretty quick this year, haven't we?”

“Yeah.”

“Especially you, Haru.” 

“Don’t single me out.” 

“But it’s true! And it’s not just this past year though. You’ve started swimming again, you’ve found a future you want to pursue, you’ve even made new friends!” 

“They’re my _teammates_. Not my friends.”

“You’ve gone out to dinner with them, Haru. On _multiple_ occasions. They’re your friends.” Haru grunts in way that sounded both like an agreement and a disagreement. Makoto laces his fingers with Haru’s. “And then there’s us. This.” Haru goes back to nuzzling Makoto’s chest. “Do you think there would be an ‘us’ had we stayed in Iwatobi?”

Haru doesn't even hesitate, “yes. Eventually. There’s no way we’re that oblivious.”

He raises his head to look at Makoto’s dumb grinning face and rolls his eyes.  
  
“Hey, Haru?”

“Hm?”

“Why… why did you kiss me that night?” Makoto had been wanting to ask that question since that night.  
  
_Shit_. This is it. All the things he needs to tell him. But he isn’t quite ready. There are still things that he's trying to work out himself. He bites his lip worriedly and tries to collect his thoughts but fails. He pushes himself up and after a few false starts, he sighs and finally begins slowly and quietly. "You’d think being an island nation, everything wouldn’t be so big. But it is. And Tokyo… this city is just _so_ big. There’s _so_ many people… _so_ many things to do and it's _too_ busy and noisy and it's too... _everything_ and it was okay for a bit because it was new and shiny but then it became overwhelming and I didn't care for it because it wasn't... _Me_. And there was no _you_. And I just wanted you. Not seeing you everyday _sucked_. Not being able to talk to you about stupid stuff _sucked_. Not swimming with you _sucked_. And it still sucks.”  
He looks away and continues, “all the time we spent apart sucked. And it made me realize how much I take your presence for granted. I just... _expected_ you to be there. And then you said you were going to Tokyo and it felt like everything was falling apart. And I didn’t know what I wanted and I was just so... _lost_. And it felt like everyone was leaving. With Rin. With my parents. _You_. And you’ve been there for me for so long and all of a sudden you weren’t. And it _hurt_. And I _don’t_ want to take your presence for granted anymore. Because you deserve more than that. And it’s just so stupid how all these things just kept piling up and I hated it and it annoyed me and I missed it and I missed _you_ and I didn’t understand it at all and then all of a sudden, everything made sense.”

He finally lifts his eyes, forcing himself to look at Makoto for this, “and _you_ made sense.” He clutches, actually _clawing,_ at his chest nervously, “am I making sense?”  
  
He didn't know what to expect from Haru but what he got _hurt_. Hurt that it had caused Haru so much pain. But by the end, it also filled him with such warmth that spread from his chest to the very tips of his fingers. If it were anyone else but Makoto, it would have sounded nothing but a series of fragmented rambling sentences but he understands. He understands the sentiments behind all the rambling. Because a lot of things in his life didn't make much sense since coming to Tokyo. Except Haru. Haru has been a constant in his life since they were... well, it's been so long that he can no longer remember. At first, he thought it was simply a matter of comfort or convenience. And that notion bothered him. Haru is so much more than that. But he's in a big city where everything's new and overwhelming and Haru stayed within his comfort zone. For the most part. He didn’t have to worry about Haru too much because Haru was Haru and whatever may happen, _at his core_ , Haru was _always_ going to be Haru:   
The same person he's known since he was a boy.  
The same person that took him by the hand and helped him chase away his fears.  
The same person who can put him at ease and can make him feel like himself again just by merely looking at his face.  
The same person who, contrary to appearances, cares deeply and immensely about his friends.  
The same person who despite knowing for so long, can still find ways to surprise him.

And he has known him for so long and had gotten so used to having him around that he thought maybe he was projecting his feelings over missing his friend into something more… intimate. But he’s met a lot of people this semester and made some friends. Some rather attractive, charming, funny, kind people. And yet none of them could make him smile the way Haru could over something as insignificant as a picture text proving that yes, he does eat something besides mackerel but only because he’s forced to. None of them make him feel… tingly. When he finally figured out _why_ his feelings for his best friend was making him feel all twisty inside, he suspected that he has _always_ felt this way about Haru. He was just too dense to see what was in front of his big dumb face this entire time. Like a dumbass. He agonized over his feelings for what felt like an eternity before Haru showed him that he had suffered needlessly.

Grasping the back of his head, Makoto draws Haru down for gentle kiss. “it makes perfect sense to me,” he whispers against his lips.

Haru exhales in relief, “good. It made sense in my head but then all these words started coming out of my mouth and I wasn’t sure if it made sense. Because _I_ know what I mean and most of the time, _you_ know what I mean but sometimes, _I_ don't even know what I mean and I jus—“ Makoto, while he loves the sound of Haru’s voice because it’s such a rare treat for him to say so much in one sitting, cuts off his rambling, pulling him into another kiss and crashing their lips together.  
  
“I’d never leave you, Haru. _Never_.” Makoto assures him frantically. Emotionally drained, Haru surges against him; their tongues sliding over and under the other, curling behind teeth, and brushing against gums. Their arms and legs becoming an entangled mess, the comforter and sheets in disarray. They kiss until they were breathless, hands and eager fingers sliding under their clothes to touch heated skin and when Haru’s hands drifts to Makoto’s waistband, they freeze. Both breathing heavily; pupils dilating with lust, faces flushing with excitement, and cocks hard with arousal.  
“I’m not ready for sex,” Makoto blurts. Realizing what he said, his face turns even redder that Haru thought he was going to pass out. It was surprisingly blunt of Makoto.

“I’m not ready for sex either,” he replies truthfully. “But... we can do the rest. If you want.”

At this point, Makoto's sure his face is literally on fire. “I’d like that.”

“Pants off, boxers on?”

Makoto buries his face in Haru’s shoulder in embarrassment, “how can you just ask something like that?” 

“These are important questions to ask, Makoto. I want us both to be comfortable. I don’t want to do something either of us don't want to. So forget about your embarrassment because this is _us_ and it needs to be right.” 

Makoto smiles warmly at him. Despite his earlier doubts over his words, Haru does have a way of expressing himself. “I know. You’re right.” Haru nods unequivocally at being told that he's right. “It doesn't make it any less embarrassing. Alright…pants off, boxers on,” he agrees confidently and clearly. Even as he feels the burning heat return to his face as well as the rest of his body in both embarrassment and anticipation.

Haru makes a noise that sounded like a cross between a scoff and a chuckle, “you’re ridiculous.” 

“Shut up. _You’re_ ridiculous.”

“I don’t know why you're so embarrassed. Sex is part of the human experience. Humans are generally contact creatures that crave affection so naturally, we have sex. I mean, there’s also the reproductive function of sex but that doesn’t exactly apply to us, does it?”

Makoto raises an amused eyebrow, “you’re starting to sound like Rei.”

He shrugs, “I call him for homework help. He’d often go on those weird tangents that he usually goes on.” He looks at Makoto out of the corner of his eye, “I know you call him for help too.”

Makoto sighs heavily, “are we sad? Asking an underclassmen for homework help? Asking an underclassman that’s still in _high school_ for _college level_ homework help?”

He shrugs again, “doesn’t really bother me. Rei’s kind of a genius. One of those eccentric kinds… He worries me sometimes. I’m positive he’s got a bunch of complex and convoluted plots to take over the world. Galaxy. Universe. He’s even got the laugh down pat.” Haru’s eyes glazes over in something similar to what Makoto knows as excitement. Makoto stares at him in alarm, “and now I’m worried about you…”

“I have no plans for world domination. Just plans for Makoto domination.”  
  
Makoto’s eyes widens so much that Haru briefly thinks they'll roll out of his skull. His face and ears lights up into an even darker shade of red.

“You’re embarrassed again. You’re so red.”

Makoto snaps out of his stupor, “you’re one to talk! You’re red yourself!” 

“Am not.” 

“You want me to get you a mirror?”

“S-shut up.” He glares at stupid Makoto with his stupid smug smile and wants to kiss his stupid smug face. So he does. “Pants. Off now,” he whispers against his lips. T

hey scramble to get their clothes off; Haru nearly toppling off the bed when Makoto abruptly sits up. Haru glances over and does his best not to laugh as Makoto struggles to pull his red flannel over his head; his limbs waving wildly in his attempt to dislodge his arms from the rolled up sleeves and his head from the collar.

Makoto suddenly stops flailing, turns to Haru's general direction and huffs, “you’re laughing at me, aren’t you?” his voice muffled and exasperated.

Haru tries to keep his voice steady but fails as it cracks, “n-no.”

Makoto glares at him and drops his arms. At least, he's pretty sure he's glaring at him. It’s hard to be certain when his face is trapped by the red flannel. “So you’re just going to sit there and not help? You jumped me, remember? You’re the one that wanted sex.”

Haru's sure that he's now pouting. Glaring and pouting. “I’m not the only one that wanted it. And it’s not sex, remember? We’re just going to rub up against each other until we come,” he smirks proudly at himself for being able to say it so matter-of-factly without cracking.  
  
Makoto groans and flops onto his back, his embarrassment furiously returning. He is convinced that Haru is doing this on purpose. He just knows it. He wants to see if it's possible for someone (namely him) to die from embarrassment and how much embarrassment he could endure before succumbing to death’s embrace. And at this rate, it’ll be relatively soon.  
Makoto feels him shift around the bed before Haru is gently tugging the sleeve past his forearm. With one arm finally free, Makoto tugs on his collar until the button pops free.

Haru pulls the rest of his shirt off and tosses it behind him. "That's what you get for having giant ass forearms."

"Oh, shut up, you."

Haru splays his hands on Makoto’s heaving chest; stroking him from his broad shoulders to his defined abdomen. Leaning over, he kisses him again; this time slow and languid, relishing in the feel of his lips and the taste of his mouth. He pulls back slightly and smiles when Makoto lifts his head, trying to recapture his lips. He nips at his chin, up his jaw line and stopping at the shell of his ear.

“Your pants are still on,” he admonishes lightly.

Makoto swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing roughly, “so are yours,” he counters.

“Hm,” he murmurs. He had gotten his jeans halfway undone but became distracted when Makoto became ensnared by his shirt. “So they are.” He cups the bulge that's straining against the stiff denim of Makoto’s jeans and squeezes him gently eliciting a harsh gasp of air from him. “We should fix that,” his hands drifts to the button, “don’t you think?” he pops the button free and the fly unzips halfway from the pressure of his erection. Haru pulls the rest down and snakes his hand in, palming his cock eagerly.

Makoto releases a shaky breath he doesn't even know he was holding, “ _fuck_ ,” he groans.  
  
Haru freezes and pulls up to look at him. “Makoto. You just cursed.”

Makoto never curses. Having two young siblings, it's been ingrained in him to refrain. “No, I didn’t.”

Haru narrows his eyes, “yes, you did.” Is Makoto seriously going to deny he said ‘fuck?’ Or did he really not realize that he had actually said it? Haru resumes his touch, gently pressing the heel of his hand at the base of Makoto’s cock.

“Fuck,” he breathes again and his eyes fly open.

“Shit,” he curses in realization. “ _Shit_!” he curses _again_ in realization.

Haru, now genuinely amused, looks the part. He grins in a way he never had before; in a way that he didn't think his facial muscles could allow, his eyes sparkling in delight before remarking, “I didn’t even think you knew those words.” 

Makoto snort-chuckles, “I have Rin as a friend. Of course I know them.”

“I like it,” Haru decides after a beat.

“You like me cursing?” Makoto’s brows furrows in disapproval.

But Haru shakes his head, “not the cursing. The general lack of inhibition that caused the cursing.” 

He laughs a little breathlessly, “when you touch me like that, it’s kind of difficult to hold onto your inhibitions.” Haru hums, clearly pleased with the response.  
  
“Okay, these jeans need to go.” He pushes himself up and off the bed and grabs the bottom of his jeans and tugs impatiently.

“H-Haru!” Makoto’s hands fly to the waistband of his boxer briefs, “you’re going to take my underwear with you if you keep pulling like that!”

Haru looks at him teasingly, “you say that like it’s a problem.”

Makoto side eyes him, “you know, you talk an awful lot during sex.”

“Not—“

“Sex. Yeah, yeah. You know what I mean. It's sex _adjacent_. It counts. I don't think I’ve ever had this long of a conversation with you.” 

“That’s a lie and you know it.” He goes back to tugging at his jeans, his boxer briefs slipping past his hip bones even as Makoto clutches onto it. Finally able to discard the offending garment, Haru stares. He can’t do anything _but_ stare. Makoto's breathing heavily and unevenly-his chest shuddering with every inhale and exhale-his eyes glassy and limbs weakly trembling, his cock head glistening and poking out of the slit of his briefs _._ His tanned skin stands in sharp contrast to the white sheets he lies on. Why does he have white sheets anyway? It’ll get so dirty. _**So, so incredibly dirty**_.

His musings are interrupted by the movements of Makoto scooting to the end of the bed where Haru stood. Sitting in front of him, he tugs at the waistband of his jeans, patiently pushing it past his hips without disturbing his boxers; the complete opposite of how Haru had done this to him. Makoto murmurs so quietly that Haru wasn't sure if it was meant for him even though it clearly was. “Hm. You're actually wearing underwear today.”

Haru pushes his shoulder lightly, “of course I am. I knew I wasn’t going swimming today,” he says it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. As if he _doesn't_ think _everyday_ is a swimming day.

Makoto leans forward pushing his jeans down his legs and past his knees. He nuzzles his stomach, placing gentle kisses and nips along the outlines of his abdominal muscles and dips his tongue in the valleys of his torso. And as Haru’s breath hitches at the warm lips against his heated and sensitive flesh, Makoto smiles into his skin at the reaction. After over a decade of friendship, he didn't think there would be anything new to learn about Haru but he's so, so wrong. He can't help but enjoy the fact that he gets to learn something new about him everyday. Like how he scratches Makoto's scalp at having his lip bitten. Or how he fights back a whimper when he licks his clavicle. Or the involuntary thrust of the hips when he brushes his hands over his ribs. He silently vows to learn every last thing about him.  
  
With his jeans finally bunched at his ankles, he consciously toes them off carefully, forcing himself to do so when all he really wants is to kick them off in his haste. But he doesn't want to disrupt the deliberate and teasing pace Makoto set.  
  
Makoto looks up at Haru, his chin resting on his abdomen and Haru feels all the breath leave his body. If it hadn’t been for Makoto holding him up, he would have crumbled to the floor. The intensity and adoration in which Makoto looks at him with is completely overwhelming.  He really is oblivious. How in the world did he miss this? How could _anyone_ miss this? It's a fucking anvil. Giant flashing neon signs. And yet, some how, they _both_ managed to miss it. _For so long_. Makoto has _always_ looked at him like this. He just never actually stopped to think about what it meant.

Until Tokyo. Until he started to miss it. Until he started to look forward to catching him looking at him this way. He wonders if he looks at Makoto the way Makoto looks at him. If his adoration is just as intense. He desperately wishes he does. And that it is. He briefly worries that he doesn’t overwhelm him the way Makoto does to him and he nearly panics because Makoto deserves to be overwhelmed with all the love and adoration possible. But the worry quickly flitters away when he sees him smile. And he knew that he did; that he does.  
  
Makoto shuffles back on the the bed, drawing Haru next to him. They sigh contently into their kiss, with the hustle and bustle of the city outside the window drowned out by the sighs, moans, gasps, and murmurs within. The sun is still high on the horizon, warming their already heated flesh. They take their time; Haru’s impatience losing its fire. Their fingers roaming over their skin, lingering whenever a gasp or moan spill from their throats. Makoto’s hips jerk roughly into Haru when his nail lightly scratch at his nipple. Haru groans at the contact, suddenly wishing this is a pants off, boxers off session instead.

Wanting that contact again, he throws his leg over Makoto, curling his calves around his hips and thrusting his swollen member against Makoto’s own. Makoto hisses in pleasure as his hands grasp at Haru’s hips; fingers digging into his flesh so hard that he's sure it’ll leave marks. He drags his hand to Haru’s firm ass; squeezing and pulling his lower body further into him. Their insistence quickly grow; kisses and touches no longer gentle but firm and demanding. Their erections rubbing against each other urgently. Haru catches Makoto’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugs at it earning a whimper from Makoto.  
  
Haru suddenly finds himself on his back with Makoto looming over him, his eyes half-lidded and wild with lust. With his leg still curled around him, he jerks him down until their pelvises grind against each other. They rock against the other, sliding over the other, their cocks dripping and sensitive and close.

 _So_.  
_Fucking_.  
_Close_.

Makoto rolls his hips, slowly dragging the length of his erection over Haru’s before doing it again.  
And again.  
_And again_.  
Each time faster than the last.

“Fuck,” Haru struggling for breath, “Makoto. Fuck, Makoto.” Unable to actually voice anything else, Haru keeps chanting his name.

“Haru… So close... Haru… I’m gonna come. _Fuck_. Need you… to… Want… _Fuck_ ,” Makoto babbles as Haru’s hips eagerly bucks against his own.

“I’m…” his throat grew dry and voice raspy, “I’m— _MAKOTO_!” His body spasms and jerks as he comes, the hot spunk soaking through his briefs as well as Makoto’s. The warmth combined with Haru’s shout of his name triggers Makoto’s own orgasm as Haru's name rips from his throat.  
  
Makoto, resting his forehead on Haru’s shoulder, sighs happily as Haru continues to lazily roll his hips; riding out their orgasm. The pair takes large gulps of air into their burning lungs, having never experienced a burn quite like this even after race or a particular grueling training session. Makoto rolls onto his back, not wanting to smother Haru. He takes another shuddering breath before turning his head to find that Haru already gazing at him with a small smile.

“We have to do that again. Pants off, boxers off,” he suggests without embarrassment.  

“I was thinking the same thing,” Haru breathes.  
  
Haru grimaces at the feel of the rapidly cooling spunk clinging to his skin as well as the insides of his boxers. Makoto gingerly pushes the uncomfortable, soggy material past his hips, lazily wriggling it down his legs and flicking it halfway across the room where it lands with a wet splat. He groans. The flat is an absolute mess. Haru grunts, having already peeled his own soaked underwear.

“I can’t move. I’m just… going to lie here.” Makoto cranes his neck and reaches over Haru for the box of tissues on the night stand. They clean up the best they could until they muster enough energy to get to the shower.

“Shower and unpack later.”

Haru snuggles against his side. “Later. Nap now,” he agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And oh my goodness. This is such a long wall of text. There were so many points at which I was sure it was the end of the chapter. But then my brain would go off on these tangents and wouldn't let go and it snowballed and snowballed and snowballed until I got this. And now there are just so many words. All these words and they don't even properly shag! What a rip off. If I were you, I’d ask for my money back.


	4. November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like using italics. Like excessively. Whether it's hitting certain words or (mostly) Haru's and Makoto's inner thoughts.

He groans in frustration as he bangs his head with a solid _thump_ against the hard wood grain of the dining table. "It's only the first day. Why is this so difficult?" he uncharacteristically whines.

Makoto stops behind him, leans over, and peeks at his textbook. Knitting his brows in confusion, he asks, "Haru...why are you taking physics?"

Haru's head lolls to the side, Makoto's _ridiculously_ muscular forearm ( _were his forearms like that in high school_?) obstructing his field of vision. "It's the only class that fits my schedule," he mumbles quietly.

Makoto's brow shoots up incredulously, "the _only_ class? Haru, your university is huge! And you're telling me that _physics_ is the only class that's available at," he peers at Haru's class schedule that was off to the side, "9am on Tuesday mornings?"

"...it may have been the first class I saw in the schedule," he murmurs even quieter this time, already wincing that the admonishment that he knows is waiting for him.

"That isn't how you're supposed to enroll in classes!"

Haru finally lifts his head to look at him, "I'm on a scholarship. I need to be a full time student!"

"That doesn't mean you have to take _physics_!"

 _Ugh_.

He's right. Haru knows he's right. But it was just so... _troublesome_ to go through the course schedule for something that interests him. Or something that _wasn't_ physics. It really was the first thing he saw. Literally. He flipped open the schedule and boom.

Physics.  
9am.  
Tuesdays.  
Perfect. ...Or so he thought.

"Drop the class," Makoto advises.

"It's too late."

"It's been one day, Haru! You're just being lazy. Drop physics. Find a class you'd actually enjoy and enroll. It's easy."

"It's too much work."

"And taking a class you're having problems with after just one day _isn't_ too much work?"

He bangs his head on the table again, "fine! I'll take an art history class. Or nutrition. Whatever." He looks up at Makoto, "happy?"

Makoto grins smugly and pulls out a chair to sit next to him, "speaking of first days... guess who's in my Intro to Sports Medicine class?" Haru looks at him blankly, _I don't know nearly enough people to play this 'guess who' game with you_. Makoto nods in understanding, "Sou-chan!"

Haru arches an eyebrow, "I don't suggest you calling him that to his face. Only Nagisa gets away with calling him that. Just barely. He may punch you in the face. And I like your face." Makoto grins stupidly at him. He continues, "I didn't know he went to your school."

"He just started. He took some time off to recuperate but he seems pretty excited to get started."

Haru hums and briefly wonders if Rin is aware of Yamazaki's plans. Annoyed with his train of thought, he rolls his eyes at himself. Why does he even care what Rin is or isn't aware of? He glances at Makoto. He's still rambling.

"--nice to see a familiar face around campus, you know? Maybe we can grab some dinner together. Or we could invite him over."

"Do we have to?"

" _Haru_." Haru huffs audibly. He hates it when Makoto uses that tone with him. With his face looking all stern-like. It made him feel like a child being scolded by his parents. Except, not even his parents had done that to him. "I thought you two worked out your differences."

"Doesn't mean I want to voluntarily hang out with him."

" _Haru_."

He huffs again and purses his lips, "do what you want."

Haru nearly yelps as he almost falls out of his seat when his chair suddenly and forcefully swings out, coming face to face with Makoto. "What the hell, Makoto?"

"You said to do what I want," he murmurs, his eyes darting to Haru's lips. Any other reprimands promptly died in Haru's throat under Makoto's scrutiny.

He licks at his suddenly dry lips, "that's... not what I meant."

Makoto shrugs and curls his long fingers around the collar of Haru's shirt, pulling him forward and easily meeting his lips. Makoto nips at Haru's lower lip and then flicks his tongue to soothe whatever dull ache he had caused.

Makoto gently parts Haru's legs as Haru slides into his seat until his back hits the wooden backing of his chair. Without breaking the kiss, Makoto climbs onto Haru's chair, seating himself into the space left by Haru's parted thighs. His own legs draping over Haru's as he sits at his full height, cradling Haru's face between his obscenely large hands. Haru straightens himself against his seat but still has to crane his neck to reach Makoto's lips.

"You're too tall," he mutters.

Makoto dips down, curving his spine, "sorry."

"Still think you're not that much taller than me?"

"I'm not," he stubbornly refutes. After a beat, he purses his lips and asks, "I'm not _too_ tall, am I?"

Haru sighs. Makoto could be so weird sometimes. Don't people usually _want_ to be tall? Something, something tall, dark, and handsome. Or some such nonsense. And Makoto has  _all_ that in spades. And it's not like he's so freakishly tall that he could be a starting center of an NBA team anytime soon. He could barely be a point guard.   
Weirdo.

"Of course not. I'm just short."

"No you're not," he insists, scandalized by the comment. "You're perfect. You're Haruka-sized," he beams proudly.

"And you're Makoto-sized. So stop being so offended. It's a matter of fact. You take after your dad."

"I'm not weird."

"I didn't say you were." He didn't, right? He definitely _thought_ it but he didn't actually _say_ it. ...Right?

"You were thinking it though."

 _Dammit_.

He shrugs, "I'm weird too. It's not too bad."

"You're not weird. You're just... Haru."

"I feel like we're going around in circles. Stop using my name as an adjective. It's not an adjective."

"You used my name as an adjective."

"Only because you did!"

"Because there isn't an adjective I can use to describe you except 'Haru!'"

Haru groans in frustration and head-butts Makoto in the chest. They really are going in circles.  
Makoto is still going on about it when he thinks, _fuck it_. He bites Makoto in the chest.  
_Hard_.  
_Sinks_ his teeth into Makoto's flesh.

Makoto yelps, nearly jumping out of his seat. His eyes wide as he rubs at the rapidly bruising teeth marks that are sure to stay for at least the rest of the week.  
" _What the hell, Haru?!"_

He rolls his eyes at Makoto's shock. "Just shut up and kiss me, idiot."

"That was very rude, Haru! I'm going to bruise! You shouldn't bite people all willy-nilly!"

"Why are you still talking?" Aggravation lacing his voice. He threads his fingers into his hair and yanks him down, his lips ghosting against Makoto's, "stop talking." He flicks his tongue at his lips and Makoto moans and his mouth opens for him easily.

Haru hums and eagerly slides his tongue into the warm, wet, welcoming cavern of Makoto's mouth. He drops his hands to teasingly ghost over the tops of his thighs. Makoto shivers at the touch and claws at Haru's shirt.

"Take off your clothes," he rumbles. Haru swings his arms over his head, intent to yanking his shirt off but at the sudden movement, Makoto nearly falls off. Instinctively, Haru's arms shoots out to catch Makoto's forearm to keep him from landing on his ass. Their hearts hammer against their chests in the wake of the close call. Makoto slides off Haru and onto his feet. He rakes his hand through his hair and exhales shakily.

"Makoto?"

"I'm okay. Just... need to catch my breath is all."

Haru taps his fingers against his leg and after a moment of silence, he quips, "you still want me to take my clothes off?"

He cackles. Haru's bluntness always had a knack for diffusing various situations. He nods _yes_. Haru shoots up off his seat and pulls his shirt over his head in time to hear Makoto grumbling loudly.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!" Makoto's struggling, tangled within his shirt.

 _Again_.

When he finally gets it off, he crumples it up and throws it on the floor in frustration and growls in irritation.

Haru folds his arms across his chest, "you're a grown human being, Makoto. How do you not know how to undress yourself?"

"It's not me!"

"Oh. Okay. So cotton has declared war on you, is that is? Is cotton your arch nemesis now?"

Makoto glares at his teasing. He hook his fingers at Haru's waistband and pulls him flush against his chest. "It's not very nice to make fun of your boyfriend."

They still hadn't settled on what they are. But for all intents and purposes, to the outside world, that's what they are.

Haru snorts at the title, "wasn't trying to be nice."

Makoto rubs his nose at the shell of Haru's ear as he flicks his tongue at his earlobe, "Ha-ru-chan," he drawls roughly.

 _Dirty pool_.

Makoto then catches the flesh between his teeth and tugs.

 _ **Dirty fucking pool**_.

They discovered Haru's ear sensitivity a few days ago when Makoto scraped his teeth along his ear and Haru got all jelly legged and melty. And now he's exploiting it. The nerve. Makoto always did have a manipulative streak in him.

But instead of getting weak kneed, he shoves his face away from him, "lay off the -chan." 

Makoto just laughs, his head jerking only slightly as Haru's shove had no real power behind it. He curls his arm around Haru's waist and easily lifts him up onto the table. Makoto pulls back and grins. They were now eye to eye and Haru couldn't stop the sharp intake of air at the sight. They were still kids the last time they were able to look directly at each other's eyes; until Makoto's out of control growth spurt. With way his eyes are currently dilated, there isn't much green but they're still the same eyes he remembers from their childhood; swirling shades of green with gold specks. Haru briefly wonders if there could possibly be a better color combination than that but quickly dismisses it because there couldn't be. ...Not that he's exactly objective, he concedes. 

"Your eyes are so pretty," Makoto murmurs quietly.

Haru pouts slightly, "no fair. I was going to say that."

Makoto averts his eyes, bashful at the compliment before softly pressing his lips against Haru's. His fingertips trails teasingly along the waistband of Haru's sweatpants before dipping his fingers underneath the soft cotton. Haru lifts his hips as a silent invitation for Makoto to finish undressing him. Pushing his sweatpants over his hips, they both sigh; Haru in relief and Makoto in resignation.

"Didn't you already have your bath, Haru?"

"Of course."

Makoto tugs the sweatpants so it bunches around Haru's thighs, "so why are you still wearing your jammers?"

Haru shrugs and kicks his sweats off, "I ran out of underwear." _Duh_.

Makoto sighs, again, in resignation. "That's it. We're going shopping this weekend." Haru's eyes light up in excitement but is promptly extinguished, "for underwear. Not jammers."

"Pass."

"Haru... Do you realize that you own more pairs of jammers than you do underwear? I know because I've done your laundry. And even though you're swimmer, that shouldn't happen."

" _Hard_ pass."

"You know I'll just drag you, Haru. You ought to give up now."

"Never."

Makoto dips his fingers under his jammers and strokes his skin, "yes," he says firmly.

Haru bats his hands away, "stop cheating."

This, too, was a new discovery; the gentle yet rough scratching from his slightly calloused fingers against the skin of his jutting hipbone.

Makoto leans forward, invading his space and licks at his collarbone and trailing up to his neck and then his ear, "you know how hard these things are to take off...they're _so tight_ ," he nips at his neck, "wouldn't you want to get naked faster?" he questions, flicking his ear, "...easier?" he draws the soft, dangling flesh into his mouth. 

_Who are you?_

Haru's shock and confusion must be evident on his face _._ "What, you can say things like that but I can't? _"_ He fingers the seam of his jammers, pressing lightly and dragging his fingertip to follow the seam that conveniently ran the length of his now rapidly hardening cock.  
  
_God... This is just... So **unfair**. Manipulative ...bastard._

Haru knows he's caving. But he isn't going to do so until he gets something out of it too. "Treat me to spicy miso mackerel ramen and I'll buy how ever many pairs you want."

Makoto's chuckle rumbles deeply in his chest, knowing that the proposed compromise was perfunctory at best, "I'll treat you to two bowls." Haru parts his legs and draws Makoto between them, "deal."

Their noses bump and nudge against each other as their tongues entwine. Haru's over eager hands claw at Makoto's chest, back, and anything else he could reach. He groans as the spandex of his jammers stretches uncomfortably, almost painfully tight against him. Makoto slides his hand underneath the fabric, stretching it even more, making Haru grunt. He shifts to one side, allowing Makoto to push the tight material over his ass and then shifts to the other to do the same. Makoto steps back from between his legs and grips the elastic tightly and tugs-roughly-wrestling with the slippery fabric. Finally, Haru's cock springs free from its confines and slaps wetly against his stomach. Makoto flings the spandex cross the room where it hits the umbrella rack, knocking the contents to the floor. 

"That seemed unnecessary," Haru mutters.

Makoto points to where his jammers landed and retorts, " _that_ seemed unncessary."

Haru slides off the table and pulls at his soft pajama bottoms, loosening the drawstrings and pushing it past his hips until the loose material easily fell to his ankles. Kicking them away after stepping out of them, he catches Haru as he launches at him. He rises to his toes to kiss him quickly, not even deepening the kiss before suckling at his jugular. And then his collarbone. And then his chest. His erection rubbing insistently against Makoto's thigh, the somewhat rough fabric of his boxer briefs offering just a tiny bit of relief but not nearly enough.

Haru's questing hand slips inside the slit of his boxers and his fingers around him, stroking Makoto's semi-hard cock until he's fully erect. Haru bites down on the juncture of where his neck and shoulder met, reveling at the feel of Makoto's cock hardening in his hands. Makoto's body quakes, gasping at how hot and intense Haru's touch is against his over sensitive flesh.  

He pulls his hand out and Makoto whimpers at the loss. But he's quickly divested of his boxers and Haru's warm hand is back on him. He sighs and is led backward until his calves hits one of the chairs. Pushing him gently, Haru guides him into the seat and clamors into his inviting lap.

Makoto licks at Haru's red, swollen lips, "see how fast I got out of those?"

Haru rolls his eyes considerably, "I already said I'd go and get some. What else do you want from me?"

Makoto licks his teeth deviously-and who would have thought that a face as kind and as gentle as Makoto's could twist into something _devious_? "Want to feel your cock on mine." 

 _Fuck_. Haru chokes, nearly swallowing his tongue. _What the actual fuck_. Just last week, Makoto couldn't even say "sex" without turning into a tomato. And now he's waxing poetic over the efficiency of getting naked and saying things like "I want to feel your cock on mine?" Did Nagisa slip something into his morning tea? He knew it wasn't possible considering Nagisa was still in Iwatobi but... it's Nagisa. You can't really put anything past the chipper blonde. 

He shakes out of his shock quickly when Makoto wraps an _**obscenely**_ large hand around his hardened member and pumps him slowly; teasingly. Haru moans hoarsely and paws at his cock, shifting further into his lap until the head of their cocks finally, _**finally**_ touch. Their bodies shuddering in pleasure but Makoto pulls his hand away, wanting to feel the hot, throbbing appendage against his own and Haru does the same. They thrust against the other; rocking and rutting languidly and then rapidly and back; their damp curls scratching and scraping gently at their erections. Wanting _more_ , Haru reaches for himself, guiding his cockhead to rub along the underside of Makoto's, tracing the red, angry vein throbbing. Makoto throws his head back, gasping, and greedily sucking in air. 

"Fuck. Haru," he pants dizzily, "what's... happening?" The red hot, fiery heat coils urgently in his stomach, aching to be released; desperate for something he couldn't describe. His skin growing _unbearably_ hot and itchy. Like a sunburn after staying at the beach for two hours too long. His hips pitches upward, roughly sliding against Haru's... _everything_.

"Makoto," Haru gasps sharply, "kiss me. ... _Please_." Makoto lifts his head and weakly reaches for him, pulling him to his lips and moaning into his open mouth when he feels Haru's hands grasp their erections.

"So fucking good," one of them says but neither is sure who.

His hips jerks into his hand and Haru strokes them roughly; aware that they weren't going to last very long but desperately wanting and needing to fall over the precipice. Suddenly, Makoto's hand joins his, their fingers slotting together and with an unexpected twist of a wrist, they both come in thick, explosive spurts, painting their stomachs with the white, sticky substance. Haru collapses bonelessly against Makoto's chest, their hands still lazily pumping at their flagging erections until Makoto sags against the seat. 

Lacing their fingers together, Makoto lifts their entangled fingers to his lips and kisses the back of Haru's hand. "We made a mess," his eyes taking in the wreckage of their flat, "again."

"We _always_ make a mess..." Haru nuzzles against his bare chest, not minding the thin sheen of sweat or sticky come clinging to his skin. "We shouldn't invite any guests."

" _Haru_!" He reprimands one last time, laughing all the while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Makoto, how do you even function? Actually, how does either of them function? Physics, Haru? Really? Come on.  
> I laugh and laugh because they're big, ole dorks. ♡♡
> 
> Three quarters of the through, I really just wanted to end the chapter by going: "and then they jerked each other off. The end." I shit you not.
> 
> So... I really haven't a clue where this is leading which is unusual because I don't usually put pen to paper (or rather, fingers to keyboard) until I know the ending. It's so bad... I guess it'll just be a surprise...


	5. December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit snacks y'all. I did some heavy ass editing (or at least it certainly _feels_ that way). For the whole fucking thing.  
> Because I am never satisfied.  
> Because my brain doesn't know how to _shut the fuck up_ and leave me alone. So go check it out.  
>  Or don't. I can't tell you what to do.  
> But it would be nice is all I'm saying.

"Well, well, well, I guess you _finally_ decided to make it official, eh?" He rubs his chin with a shit-eating grin, "It's about damn time!" He smirks gleefully. "I swear, you should have been together about forever ago." Haru and Makoto glance at each other briefly, embarrassment lightly coloring their faces. He gesticulates wildly with his hands and arms in their direction, "Jesus, look at you... nothing's changed!"

"Nothing  _has_  changed," Haru agrees calmly.

_Please don't say it. Please don't say it. Pleasedon'tsayit._

"...Except the sex."

 _Dammit_.

" _Haru._ " He's using the stern!Makoto voice again.

"And that. He's been saying that  _a lot_."

"Because it needs to be said!"

"In different contexts," he continues as if Makoto hadn't interjected with something akin to a ' _if you know what I mean_ ' smirk.

" _Haru._ " Makoto's voice, still stern but growing increasingly horrified.  _It **cannot**  get any worse._

"But mostly like that."

"Oh? Tell me more. About the sex, I mean," he leans eagerly against his palm, his attention focused solely on Haru.

_...Nope. Wrong. So, so wrong. It just got worse. A whole lot worse._

" _Rin_!"

Rin snaps his head quickly at Makoto, "I am _not_ your boyfriend. _You_ can't use that tone of voice with me," he taunts.

"I  _can_  and  _will_  use this tone of voice on  _who_ ever and  _when_ ever I want to!"

"Oh? Look at Makoto with the backbone."

"Makoto has always had a backbone. He just only flexes it when he wants to."

"And you'd know all about him flexing it, eh, Haru?" He grins lasciviously.

" _Rin_!"

"...Haru... Did you just try to Makoto me?"

"...Did it work?"

"Well, it wasn't very convincing."

"This isn't funny," Makoto grumbles while folding his arms across his chest.

"Makoto." Haru waits until Makoto looks at him before continuing, "You're cute when you pout."

"Ha-Haru," Makoto sputters while Rin snickers before turning into full belly guffaws, "I'm surprised you'd even know what 'cute' looks like."

"Shut up, Rin," Haru replies automatically.

"Although, I'm with you there, Haru. Makoto is absolutely  _adora-fucking-ble_  when he pouts," Rin smirks at Makoto, his sharp teeth gleaming in delight.

"This isn't fair..." Makoto buries his face in his hands and whines.

"You get riled up too easily, Makoto."

"It's your own fucking fault for falling in love with a blunt idiot. And not just  _any_  blunt idiot..." he jerks his thumb in Haru's direction, " _this_  blunt idiot."

"Rin's right. You sealed your fate the day you decided you wanted to be friends with me."

Makoto throws his arms in the air, tiring of their blatant teasing, "You guys are the worst. I'm not talking to you anymore."

"Aw, come on, Makoto. We're just kidding!" Rin reaches over, smiles warmly and squeezes his shoulder, "But seriously, you guys... I'm  _really_  happy for you."

Makoto, sighing in defeat and unable to stay upset and unable to keep his follow through on his threat, smiles gently at Rin, "Thanks, Rin. It means a lot."

"Don't be mistaken! This changes absolutely nothing! As one of your oldest and dearest friends, I reserve the right to be relentless!"

"I expect nothing less."

Rin leans back, linking his hands behind his head, he rocks his chair on its back legs, "Seeing you all domestic-like. It's really is adorable. So precious."

"Why does everything that comes out of your mouth sound both like an insult and compliment?"

"It's a gift."

His magenta eyes scan over their cozy apartment, taking note of all the different knick-knacks and photos littering their shelves that reminds him-and surely them too-of Iwatobi. "You should have told me you were moving. I would have helped."

"Yeah, right. You? Help?" Haru scoffs.

Makoto adds, "because you have so much money coming out of your ass. You were in Australia, in case you forgot."

A palpable silence falls ominously over the apartment, "Haru... did... did you break Makoto?"

"No!" His eyes widens, a little panicky, "d-did I...?" He trains his eyes on Makoto, scanning for any kind of distress from his boyfriend.

Rin waves his hand dismissively, "that's not what I meant. Also, I'm a little worried at what you  _thought_  I meant." He turns to Makoto again, "I meant you saying 'ass.' That was the most vulgar thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth."

Haru snorts loudly, almost giddily, "that's what you think. You don't even know the half it..."

Rin's jaw drops in shock and awe, over both Haru's reaction that he didn't know he was capable of  _and_  at the revelation that Makoto is apparently a potty mouth.  "I... what? Wait, no. Don't tell me. ...I think." His brows furrowing in indecision and confusion. He simultaneously wanted to know but knew that the knowing would probably turn his face red faster than a lobster being boiled. And he was not about to let that happen. Not in front of these idiots. 

"Haru's exaggerating!" Makoto glares sharply at Haru but he merely shrugs nonchalantly at the silent reprimand.

"You should hear the things he says when I-" Rin doesn't hear him finish because in an instant, a flash of brown zooms quickly past and tackles Haru to the ground.

" _Haru_!" His hand covering his mouth. Haru rolls his eyes and bites him none too gently on the fleshy part of his palm. Makoto yelps and yanks his hand away.

"You didn't let me finish. I was going to say-"

Makoto stops him again. This time with his mouth. And Makoto can  _feel_  Haru grinning into the kiss. He huffs. And Haru thought  _he's_  manipulative? "Please. Don't say anymore, Haru-chan."

"Well...this is certainly different!" A leaning Rin grins as he peers at them from over the dining table. They scramble to their feet. Well, Makoto scrambled. Haru leisurely rolled to his side before pushing himself off the floor.

"Sorry."

He waves Makoto's apologies off, "for what? Shutting your boyfriend up? Believe me, I welcome it."

He takes a swig of water from bottle they had given him when he first arrived. "Hey, what time is it?"

Makoto glances down at his watch, "quarter 'til 6."

"Fuck. I think I should've picked Sousuke up. The guy can't even navigate his apartment without getting lost."

Makoto chuckles at Rin's concerned face, "he'll be fine. He's been here before."

Haru looks sharply at him, "he has?"

Makoto nods nonchalantly, "we were studying for midterms."

"Where was I?"

"Practice."

"Eh? What this? Is Haru...  _jealous_?"

Haru aims a glare in Rin's direction, "don't be ludicrous. Why would I be jealous?"

"Makoto is a good looking guy! Aren't you,  _Tachibana-san_?" His voice drops into a breathy timbre as he licks his incisors seductively and winks both playfully and flirtatiously at Makoto.

"Hey," Haru growls in warning as Makoto stood frozen, wide eyed and mouth gaping.

Rin giggles then; actually giggles, high pitched and infectious. Except no one was infected. "Holy shit! You  _are_ jealous! Look at you! So  _adorable_!" He smooshes Haru's face between his hands. Irritation bubbles up from his gut and Haru swats his hands away. Rin shrugs unaffected, "I don't blame you for getting jealous, Haru. I mean,  _look_  at him!" Makoto's pink face quickly grows into an unusual shade of red at the sudden attention thrown at him. " _That_ is a good looking man right there! Tell me the truth, Makoto, you get a lot of admirers at school, don't you?"

Makoto hems and haws, shifting his feet uncomfortably before confirming, "there's been... a few."

Rin throws his head back, giggles bubbling once again, "a few, he says! Don't be so modest, Makoto! I know there's been more than a few! I mean, seriously! Look at you!" He demands Haru while gesturing at Makoto.

Haru rolls his eyes at Rins antics. He doesn't need to  _look_. Because he  _knows_.

"Tall. Dark. And handsome! Those eyes! And have you seen his shoulders?" He reaches over, practically  _climbing over_ the table in excitement, and squeezes, borderline  _groping_ , a shoulder  _and_  a bicep. "Oh, right, of course you have, what am I saying? Those are some good shoulders to have!" He shakes Makoto lightly.

"When have  _you_  seen his shoulders?" Haru's eyes narrows menacingly.

Rin blinks momentarily at Haru in confusion before he's laughing again, "He used to swim, Haru! You know, the thing we do while half naked? Or did you forget that? Of course I've seen his shoulders!  _Everyone_  has seen his shoulders!"

Makoto shrinks into himself, unsuccessfully trying to hide from the attentive eyes, "Can we stop talking about my shoulders now? This is making me very uncomfortable."

"Stop making Makoto uncomfortable, Rin."

"Sorry, sorry," he genuinely apologizes to them both but he was still grinning. "I didn't mean to ogle and objectify your body. Just wanting to point out that you're attractive as  _fuckkkk_."

Makoto presses his hands to his face in hopes of cooling his burning cheeks, "Thank you and noted. But can we  _please_  stop now?"

"Yeah, I'll stop, Makoto." He pats him on his back. He enjoys teasing Haru and Makoto. And while he would  _love_  to continue to do so with Haru, he decided Makoto had enough for today. The guy could only take so much before fainting. 

Rin opens his mouth to make one last comment but is cut off by three sharp knocks to the door. "I'll get it!"

"Who does he think he is? Opening  _our_  door?"

"I think he's just excited to see Sousuke, Haru-chan."

"Then he should have gone to see him first rather than coming here."

There's a quiet pause before Makoto teasingly asks, "you're not really jealous, are you, Haru-chan?" Makoto desperately tries to keep the grin threatening to overtake his face at bay. 

"What? No." He looks away, hoping Makoto wouldn't see his flushed face. It... was unsuccessful to say the least. " _Shut up_."

Rin yanks open the door, revealing a Sousuke with downcast eyes and rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment, "sorry I'm late. I got sort of turned around, like, a block down." Sousuke lifts his head and grins upon seeing Rin, "Rin!"

"Sousuke!" Launching himself at his larger friend, he engulfs him into a tight hug.

They break apart and Rin shoves his chest, "did you get taller, you bastard?"

Sousuke smirks amusingly at him, "maybe you're just shrinking."

Rin shoves him again, "asshole!" He grins and hugs him again. "It's so good to see you, Sousuke."

Sousuke smiles into Rin hair, inhaling slightly, "I've missed you too, Rin."

Rin, suddenly embarrassed, kicks his shin lightly, "shut up."

"Rin. Are you crying?"

"Shut up, Haru!"

* * *

Haru lays on the bed, lazily flipping through his waterfall magazine as he waits for Makoto to finish his nightly ritual. Makoto jumps into the bed, jostling Haru as it bounced. "It was good seeing Rin today, wasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"So... Rin and Sousuke looked... cozy, right? Or was that just me?"

"They were."

"Do you think they're...?"

"No."

"No? Why not?"

"Because they're idiots."

"You shouldn't call your friends that, Haru-chan."

"Lay off the -chan. And they're my friends. I can call them however I want. Doubly so for my 'oldest and dearest friend,' Rin." He pauses and rolls his eyes. "It's not even factually correct.  _You're_  my oldest and dearest friend. The idiot."

With a shy smile and round, pink cheeks, Makoto bashfully nods, "You're my oldest and dearest friend too, Haru."

Makoto then replays what Haru said, "so Sousuke is a friend!"

"I never said that. Shut up."

"It's okay if you think of him as a friend, Haru. No one will think any less of you."

_Like I care about that._

"I know you don't. But Sousuke is a good guy. The whole thing with Rin... It was just his attempt to protect Rin." Haru simply rolls his eyes in a huff. "I know Rin doesn't need protecting. Least of all from you but... Sousuke didn't understand what the relay with us did for him; what it  _meant_. He understands it now. He knows he was wrong."

Makoto isn't telling him anything he doesn't already know. He knows that Yamazki found  _it_ the day he swam the relay with Rin and the rest of the Samezuka team. And it's not like he actively dislikes the guy. He's... fine. He's a perfectly serviceable human being. He's Rin's friend. And he gets it. Yamazaki is a lot like Makoto in this regard; the desire to look out after a friend, the need to  _care_. Only with an extra helping of surliness. It's nothing Makoto wouldn't do for him had he been in that position. He'd be more polite about it but he'd still be menacing. Makoto can do menacing very well. No one knows that about him. But Haru does. He's seen it more than once (but less than a handful). He may come off as a giant cuddly teddy bear at times, but make no mistake,  _bears are not cuddly_. Sure, they leave you alone most of the time but provoke them and they are deadly creatures that wouldn't think twice about ripping you apart if you threaten them or a loved one. Tachibana Makoto can be as mama bear and stubborn and persistent and menacing as anyone if the situation calls for it. 

Haru slides his eyes over to Makoto who's looking at him expectantly. His shoulders sag and he rolls his eyes. "I was perfectly polite to him today."

"You were."

"I'm not going to bend over backwards to be nicer to him."

"Not asking you to."

He sighs begrudgingly, "I suppose... I suppose I could have worse friends than Sousuke."

Makoto's eyes beams at Haru almost blindingly, "you called him Sousuke, Haru-chan!"

_Shut up._

"And you called him your friend! You can't take it back!"

"I hate you."

"You do not."

"I do not," he unnecessarily confirms.

"I'm happy, Haru-chan."

"You're too easily pleased, Makoto."

Makoto grins at the unintended innuendo, "that's funny, coming from you, Haru-chan." Makoto gently scratches the shell of his ear with his fingernail, causing Haru to shiver. But instead escalating things, he kisses him chastely on the cheek, "good night, Haru-chan."

"Good night, Makoto."

Makoto switches off the light, plunging the room in darkness, and snuggles into the thick blankets next to Haru. After a short beat, Makoto breaks the silence, "about you being jealous..."

" _Good. Night_ , Makoto."

Makoto chuckles airily, knowing it's a subject for another day, "good night, Haru-chan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Makoto: still the biggest dork to ever dork.  
> Manipulative!Haru. But really, who honestly wouldn't?  
> Haru knows an awful lot about bears. A LAND CREATURE. (⊙０⊙)  
> OH, HI, RIN! So nice of you to drop in! Stop making Makoto uncomfortable. Rin is pretty touchy and huggy and I think he'd totally leer and make lewd and wildly inappropriate comments at his friends.  
> And MaMakoto gets a mention! As in a thing that gets said!  
> (￣∀￣)・:*:
> 
> Edit: To all the readers, I have a helluva fun time writing these and I hope you have just as much fun reading. Leave some feedback and lemme know what you are and aren't enjoying. Perhaps it'll help me navigate this directionless ship.


	6. December II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to get this up before I hibernate for the long weekend.
> 
> I enjoy me some Makoto-Rin friendship and wish the we had more of them.  
> Also, Rin is a lot of fun to write so the past two chapters were a joy and a riot for me. ٩(●˙▿˙●)۶

His nose is buried in a thick textbook when he jolts up from the sudden and unexpected knock at his door. He pushes his glasses up after it slid down from the jump and wobbles to the door, rubbing his knee along the way after knocking it into the underside of the table.

"Makoto!" a forlorn whine pierces through the door, "Are you home?"

Makoto pulls open the door and Rin stumbles in with his fist in the air still in mid-knock. Makoto catches and steadies him before Rin could collide with him.

Rin grabs his shoulders, smile wide and eyes gleaming, "thank god you're home!" His eyes widen as he takes stock of Makoto's appearance, " _Jesus fucking Christ_ , Makoto... You wear glasses?! Since when do you wear glasses?"

"Um, since high school?"

"I have _never_ seen you in glasses! _Jesus fucking Christ_! You definitely have more than a few admirers at school if you're wearing those to class!"

"Rin... Not this again..."

"What? I'm serious! _Jesus fucking Christ_ , you look _really_ good like that. Shit... It's _criminal_ to look that good." He throws his arms up and huffs, "That's just not fair! What are the rest of us supposed to do? And by the rest of us, I mean outside of me and you, of course. Fuck, Haru is a lucky fucking bastard."

After a handful of more _Jesus fucking Christs_ that leaves Makoto shaking his head in amusement, Rin finally explains why he was banging at his door.

"Sousuke's in class until 3:30. Haru's training until, fuck knows when-"

"One-thirty. And then he has a class at 2. He won't be out until 3:30 too."

"Of course you'd know his schedule. Anyway... I got bored, right? Who wouldn't get bored? So I walked around Sou's neighborhood and there really isn't shit there so I thought that maybe you didn't have class." He turns to him, hands on his shoulders again, "thank god you're home!"

Makoto chuckles and smiles warmly, "I don't have classes on Thursdays. You could have just called."

"Yeah, but if you were in class, I'd be back at square one. At least by coming here," he shrugs indifferently, "I killed some time." He cranes his neck around and sees the scattering of paper and textbooks and highlighters on the dining table, "fuck. I'm interrupting your school work, aren't I?"

"It's fine, Rin. I could use the break."

Rin chews on his lip feeling guilty but not _that_ guilty, "you sure?"

"Yeah. How about we get some lunch? We can grab some takeout for Haru too and swing by the pool after we're done."

Rin scoffs, "pft. You just want to see your boyfriend." Rin clutches his sides as he peels into a fit of giggles. "Haru... Boyfriend. Jesus fucking Christ. Are there a pair of words that are more ill-fitted than 'Haru' and 'boyfriend'?"

Makoto sighs as he slides his door closed, dead bolting it and joining Rin as they walk down the stairs, "Rin, that's _my_ boyfriend you're talking about..."

"Come on, Makoto! If you asked _anyone_ a year ago if Haru could be anyone's boyfriend, they would have died of laughter. The guy is as emotional available as a doorknob."

Makoto glares and huffs at that because if anyone should know how untrue that statement is, it's Rin. "You _know_ that's not true. He might not show it and he may have trouble saying it, but Haru feels things as deeply as you and I. Maybe even deeper."

Rin, contrite, because he really _does_ know better, keeps his eyes downcast, ducking his head and wanting to shrink inside himself. "I... I know. I'm sorry, Makoto. But it's... It's different with you. You and Haru... You speak a different language. I mean, I'm not so crazy to think that you have _actual_ telepathy but... it damn well _feels_ like it. And I _know_ Haru has feelings and that he's not as emotionally distant as he likes portray himself as but..."

"It'll be nice to hear it. I get it."

"Sorry," Rin mumbles again.

Feeling kind of, but also _not,_ at making Rin feel bad, Makoto diffuses the tension and slings his heavy arm around Rin, "Come on, I'm starving."

* * *

They arrive at the ramen shop within 20 minutes. Makoto already knows what he wants but Rin is still fiddling with the menu and deciding. "What does Haru usually order? Oh, never mind. That idiot probably gets the spicy miso mackerel, huh? Weirdo." He hems and haws, debating between the shio with extra chashu or spicy miso _without_ mackerel, but with an extra egg. He finally chooses the shoyu with extra chashu _and_ an extra egg.

"Big appetite."

"Hey, I'm an Olympic athlete in training! I have to eat. Lemme guess, Haru just eats mackerel all the time."

"Well, not _all_ the time..." Makoto attempts to defend while Rin snorts.

They talk about nothing of consequence, filling the would be silences with stories of Rin's adventures in Australia and Makoto relaying his own Tokyo adventures. There's a brief break in the conversation and Rin rests his cheek against his palm and stares at Makoto. Makoto shifts uncomfortably in his seat at the attention. "If you're going to comment on my glasses... Or my shoulders again..."

"It's not that. It's just... You look really happy."

He exhales, shoulders sagging in relief, "I _am_ really happy."

"I know I said it the other day but... I'm really happy for you guys."

Makoto nods, swallowing heavily and overcome with emotion at the unfettered joy and support on Rin's soft face. "Thank you," he offers in a whisper.

"You know... I was worried about you guys for a while. I mean, I knew it would all work out because you're Makoto and Haru but... I was still worried. Haru was just... such a mess." He caught Makoto's quick grimace and as quickly as it came, it went. But he still caught it. They may have moved past it but it was still somewhat of a sore point. "N-not to say you weren't a mess! I'm sure it was hard on you too! Being your first fight and all... but I mean, the guy didn't even want _go in the_ _**water**_. ...He didn't even want to be _near_ it. He didn't even _pack a pair of jammers_! It was some Invasion of the Bodysnatchers-type shit. And... it was scary."

"But you brought him back, Rin," he swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing at his throat, "I don't think I thanked you for that."

He waves his hand in which he hopes was dismissive, "no need to thank me. It was worth it. He's been a good friend. You both have."

"I'm glad you're here," Makoto blurts out. "I mean, I know you're only here for a week but... still... I'm glad. Texting and calling and Skyping just isn't the same."

"I'm glad too." Rin's smile wobbling slightly, "You're not going to cry on me, are you?"

Makoto smirks at Rin's shimmering eyes, "Shouldn't I be asking _you_ that?"

Their food arrives just in time and Rin tells himself that it's the steam from the ramen that's making his face heat up and _nothing_ else, "Shut up, Makoto."

* * *

Rin reclines comfortably on the couch and grins at Makoto. "So... have you and Haru had sex on this couch?"

"Rin!" Makoto nearly drops their tea at the question.

He takes the tea from Makoto's hands and takes a quick sip; it's still a tad too hot. "What? You can tell me. Friends talk about this stuff!"

"Well, they shouldn't! It's... _private_. I want to opt out of these types of conversations."

"Come on, Makoto!" He wheedles annoyingly.

Makoto hesitates, really not wanting to go down this particular line of conversation, "it's not... We're not... Don't listen to Haru." He folds his arms across his wide chest, "we're not having sex!"

"Hah? Why not?"

"Because we're... this is still new to us! We're... learning." He sinks into the seat cushions, wishing it would swallow him whole.

"Oh. ...Research? ...Porn?"

Makoto sputters inelegantly, "what? No!"

"There's nothing wrong with porn."

"I didn't say there was!" Makoto brings his hands to his face, muffling his whines, "oh my god, Rin. Are we seriously having this discussion?"

"Yes! Yes, we are! There's no opt out clause!"

He rakes his hands over his face, knowing Rin was not going to drop this no matter what. He reluctantly offers, "we're just... doing what comes natural. We're... figuring things out as we go. And that's all I'm saying on this issue!"

"Tsk. Fine. I'll just ask Haru."

He groans in irritation, "please don't. Nothing he says will even be _close_ to resembling the truth."

"That's all the more fun."

" _Rin_." Rin tsks again. He begrudgingly agrees with Haru; he _really_ didn't like it when Makoto uses that tone with him.

Rin fidgets on the couch, folding and then unfolding his legs. Makoto's just about to grab him to get him to stop when Rin suddenly says, "hey... Can I tell you something?"

"Of course you can."

Rin fully turns and sits to face him, folding his legs across each other on the couch. "You can't tell anyone else!"

"Okay..."

He shoves a finger in his face, his jaw tense with a level of seriousness he hadn't seen in a while. "Not even Haru! I mean it! At least not until I figure some stuff out!"

"Rin! I promise."

"Okay." Rin rubs his neck then rakes his hands through his long, unruly hair and takes a deep breath. "Okay. I was thinking about moving my training here. I mean, not necessarily _here_ -here, like Tokyo-here but _here_ -here, as in Japan-here."

"Rin..."

"Don't get me wrong! Australia has been great and I love it! It's not like it was before where I was... whatever. But... I miss _here_. It's home. And okay, I know I've said that looking at the ocean and knowing that you guys were looking at the same ocean makes me feel better but Jesus, I miss you guys."

"When did you say that?"

"You don't remember?"

"I don't think you said it to me, Rin."

"Well, whatever. I said it to _someone_."

"You really are a hopeless romantic."

"Shut up." There was a quiet pause, Rin letting Makoto process his thoughts. "Say something."

“You just told me to shut up."

Growling in annoyance, he shoves Makoto in the shoulder, “Makoto! Be serious! What do you think?"

Makoto folds his leg under him and rests his arm on the back of the sofa. "Rin, if you're asking me what you should do, I can't tell you that. There's no way I can be impartial because if you're asking me to choose between Japan and Australia, I'm going to choose Japan. Always. This is something you have to decide for yourself. You have to do what's best for you. It's _your_ future. I _want_ to help, Rin, believe me, _really_ I do. But I'm afraid I can't be objective enough to actually help you in this."

Rin chews his lip, nicking the inside of his mouth, "I figured you'd say that. ...My coach is willing to come with me."

"And do you like your coach?"

"He's been really good. And patient with me. I'm not exactly what you would call easy to work with..."

"Then you should discuss it with him. Figure out the differences in what Australia and Japan can offer you. Pro and con it out and go from there. If Japan can offer you something Australia can't, choose Japan. If Australia can offer you something Japan can't, choose Australia. Only you can know what you want and need, Rin. Just... Remember to choose for yourself. I'm not saying to not get input from others because that's important too. I'm just saying to remember to make the choice for yourself and no one else. Don't worry what I want or what your mom or sister wants. It's a big decision and it needs to be _yours_. Don't let someone influence your decision. This is for you and you alone."

Rin shakes his head and grins, "And you said you can't help."

Makoto shrugs and chuckles, "like I said, I'm not impartial. I want to be selfish and tell you to stay. But I won't. Because it wouldn't be fair. But whatever you decide, Rin, I'll... _we'll_ support you."

"Thanks, Makoto," he flushes quietly.

After a pause, he smirks at him, his eyes raking over his relaxed form, "I sort of want to molest you now."

" _Rin_."

"I'm joking! Haru would kill me! I'm too young and too pretty to die."

Makoto shakes his head at his friend and notices the sun dipping over the horizon. He frowns in confusion, "It's... getting kind of late, isn't it?"

"Yeah... I wonder what's taking them."

"Haru's campus is 20 minutes away from mine and my school is 20 minutes away from here..." Makoto looks at the clock. It's 4:30 now. "Oh... they should be here by now."

Rin furrows his brows, lips puckering, "You don't think Haru forgot to meet up with Sousuke, do you?"

Makoto adamantly shakes his head, "those are the plans we made. They both confirmed it twice. He didn't forget."

Rin sucks his lip between his teeth, not wanting to ask but really needing to, "...you don't think Haru just decided to _ditch_ Sousuke, do you?"

Makoto pauses. A few days ago, it was definite possibility. Today, though, it's merely a _mild_ possibility. "I hope not."

A shrill chirping from Rin's phone interrupts them and before Rin even says hello, Haru's voice filters through, "where's your boyfriend?"

"Wha-what the _hell_ , Haru? I don't have a-"

"I'm where I'm supposed to be and your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen."

"He's not-! Stop calling him that," Rin hisses.

"I've been waiting here for almost 40 minutes. He isn't here."

"Fuck. Hang on." He snaps his fingers at Makoto, "can you call-?"

"Already on it."

"Your boyfriend's an idiot."

"I swear, Haru, call him that one more time..."

"What? An idiot?"

"You fucking _asshole_." He rubs his face in irritation. Haru knew _exactly_ what he meant... _Asshole_. Dealing with Haru is so god damn _aggravating_. "Why didn't you call him?" He is met with a stony silence and thought the call had dropped when he realizes Haru was probably staring at... something. He rolls his eyes, "you know I can't see you, right? And even if I can, I'm not Makoto. I don't know what your silences mean!"

"Why would I have his number?"

"For situations like this!"

"This situation isn't common enough for me to have his number."

"Haru," Rin's voice is pleading, "I'm texting you his number."

"Don't want it."

"Too bad!" Haru hangs up on him without saying goodbye.

Rin curses him under his breath. Has Haru always this _**frustrating**_? ...Yes. Yes, he has. He looks at Makoto. The man is a saint for being able to put up with Haru for so fucking long. He's still on the phone with Sousuke, patiently trying to ascertain where he is. Makoto is _definitely_ a saint. He ought to call up the Vatican and see if the Pope will grant him sainthood.

_...Is the Pope listed in the YellowPages?_

"...Yes, I'm well aware of of that, Sousuke..."

"I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be! It's your boyfriend that's missing!"

"Look, just... tell me where you are right now."

"Like I _said_ , I'm in the courtyard."

"Yes, but _which_ courtyard?"

"What do you mean _which_ courtyard?"

"There's more than one courtyard, Sousuke."

"... _Shit_. Are you serious?"

He sighs and closes his eyes, willing the headache that's rapidly forming to go away, "where are you?"

"In the courtyard by the Physical Sciences building."

"You were supposed to meet him at the courtyard by the Biological Sciences building. You confirmed this _twice_ , Sousuke."

"The Biologic- where's the Biological Sciences building?"

Makoto flinches at the unexpected question and can _physically_ feel his patience wear _dangerously_ thin, "where's the- what do you _mean_ where's the Biological Sciences building? You just had a class there!"

"I did?"

Throwing his head back, he rubs his eyes, and groans. _Are you kidding me?_ "Yes, you did! Sousuke..." Makoto takes a deep, calming breath, "the Biological Sciences building is on the _other_ side of the campus..." he shakes his head and reconsiders giving him directions, "you know what? Just... stay there. I'll let Haru know where you are. He'll come get you."

"Wait, what?"

He continues as if he hadn't said anything, "Haru's familiar with the campus. He should be there soon."

"He doesn't even go here!"

"Yeah, but he'd meet me for lunch sometimes. Or he'd bring me lunch. Or we'd hang out in between classes."

"Oh." There was a pause on Sousuke's end. "No, you know what? I'll figure it out. I'm not going to lose to a guy that doesn't even go to this school!'

"Sousuke!"

_Eh? ...Are you fucking kidding me?_

"...S-Sousuke?"

_**...ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?** _

He turns to Rin, his mouth flapping open and shut in shock, "he... he hung up on me. He going to try to make to Haru instead of waiting for him like a sane person because there's no way he's 'going to lose to a guy that doesn't even go to this school.' Rin..."

Rin rubs his neck nervously, "shit..."

" _Rin_... _what the fuck_?"

"Makoto..." Rin's eyes widen; Haru commented on Makoto's foul language but... it was obvious Haru meant it in an _entirely_ different context.

"What is _**it**_ with you _and_ Sousuke? This... this ridiculous need to make _everything_ into a contest! I mean, seriously... what the _actual fuck_? He's willing to get even _more_ lost? And for what? Does he have brain damage?!"

Rin stops and starts in trying to calm his friend, his mouth flapping open and shut uselessly, "Ma...Makoto. Ca-calm down." Makoto whips his head to Rin; his face red in both frustration and anger. Rin flinches; he has never seen Makoto like this. "Don't worry." Makoto sucks in a breath, nostrils flaring in annoyance and even though this was unfamiliar to Rin, he instantly recognizes that he's gearing up for another rant, "I'll-I'll call him right now and yell at him, o-okay?" He grabs his phone, "See? Look, I'm calling right now."

_Pick up, you fucking asshole. Pick. Up._

After several rings, he finally picks up, "Sou! Stop whatever you're doing right now!"

"What? Why?"

"Just do what I fucking say, you idiot!"

"All right! Shit. No need to shout."

"Where the _fuck_ are you?" Rin hisses hurriedly.

He looks around but nothing seems familiar, "fuck... I don't actually know."

"Oh my _god_ , Sousuke. I'm going to _kill_ you..." And if he doesn't, Makoto might.

"Oh! I'm right in front of the Phys. Ed. building."

Rin slaps Makoto in the chest, covering the mouthpiece of his phone, "Phys. Ed."

Makoto sends Haru a text and gets a return message in less than two seconds: _idiot_.

He snorts, feeling bad that he had reprimanded Haru in calling him that the other day but couldn't help but concur in this instance.

* * *

He makes it to the Physical Education building within three minutes with ease and immediately spots Yamazaki. He's tempted to just leave him here. Why did he wait _40 minutes_ for him? Rin should have picked him up. He would have been home with Makoto by now. Haru stomps over to him but when Yamazaki doesn't notice him, he clears his throat— _loudly_.

Startled, Yamazaki spins around abruptly, "oh, Nanase. Where did you come from?"

Haru refrains from rolling his eyes (Makoto would be so proud) and grits out, "the courtyard by the _Biological Sciences_ building. Where we were _supposed_ to meet."

"Oh. I must have gotten turned around."

"You don't say. How do you even function?" _That wasn't very polite, was it? Should I apologize?_

"You're one to talk. You water-loving, mackerel-eating stripper."

 _Neither was that. ...Yeah, totally_ _ **not**_ _apologizing._ This time, he _doesn't_ refrain from rolling his eyes. "I haven't stripped in a long time." He tilts his head and nods towards the direction of the train station. "Let's just go. We're already late because of you."

"How is this my fault?"

" _You're_ the one that didn't show up where you were supposed to. That makes it _your_ fault."

Sousuke holds his tongue at that because, okay, yes, it totally was his fault because this campus is gigantic and he didn't pay attention to where he was going and how was he supposed to know that the Biological Sciences and Physical Sciences buildings were two _separate_ buildings? It was all just very _confusing_. Sousuke shakes out of his revere when he notices Haruka is speaking.

"...koto and Rin will be starving by the time we get back and I haven't even gotten the groceries yet."

"Wait, you're cooking?"

"I refuse to let him eat out for two consecutive meals. It's unhealthy." _Him_ being Makoto. He could care less about Rin.

"Oh right, he went out with Rin for lunch, didn't he?"

Haru pulls out his phone and immediately taps on Makoto number. It rings just once before Makoto is on the line. "Haru? Is everything okay? Did you find him?"

"Yes. He was in front of the Physical Education building." He hears Makoto sigh in relief and had the sudden urge to kick Yamazaki in the shin for making his boyfriend worry. "Do me a favor and go to the market and get some groceries. Enough food for four."

"You're going to cook, Haru-chan?"

"Lay off the -chan. You already went out for lunch. You really want to go out for dinner too?" Makoto rubs his stomach. If given a choice between Haru's cooking and going somewhere, he's always going to pick Haru's cooking. He just didn't want to trouble him. "It's no trouble, Makoto." Even over the phone, Makoto was easy to read. "It's easy. Just take Rin with you and get some stuff."

Makoto hums and nods, "what should I get?"

"Whatever you want. I'll figure it out what to do with it when I get there."

"Like a surprise?"

"Yes, Makoto. Like a surprise."

"Okay. See you soon, Haru! Bye!" He hums and slips his phone back into his pocket.

Rush hour meant that the car was unfortunately full so they were left standing and squished among a sea of people. Sousuke's heavy body sways into Haru's at a particularly sharp turn, pinning Haru against the door. "Sorry," Sousuke mutters. Haru grunts in response.

Yamazaki isn't _that_ much taller than Makoto, is he? Just, like, two centimeters, right? But he's towering over Haru like a... big, towering thing. And they're practically the same build. Granted, his chest is slightly broader, thanks to him being a butterfly stroker. But Makoto swimming the backstroke should even things out, shouldn't it? Either way, he looks much somewhat more imposing when compared to Makoto. And, you know, the scowl-y, gruffness that stands in stark contrast to Makoto's sunny disposition probably plays a part.

"You know, I can probably help you with dinner," Yamazaki's deep voice rumbles, interrupting his thoughts. Haru's head snaps up to look at him but he's looking straight ahead. "I'm pretty handy in the kitchen."

Haru snorts, "Makoto says he's handy in the kitchen. He's not."

Yamazaki mirrors his snort, "yeah, I've seen him in the kitchen. He can barely reheat leftovers." He pauses, "that was mean, wasn't it?"

"He's not _that_ hopeless. He can at least boil water. That said, he's pretty hopeless."

"Good thing he's got you then. Or else he'd die of starvation."

"Or from eating too much instant ramen." Haru scrunches his brows, "when have you seen him in the kitchen?"

"...When I was over to study for a midterm?" He finally turns his head to look at Haru. "We got hungry and there were some leftovers from the night before. I think he said you made it. It was pretty good, by the way."

Haru looks away at the compliment, "it nothing."

After shuffling around to let the other passengers out, Haru looks at Sousuke again, "how often do you study with Makoto?"

"Often enough." He meets Haru's eyes, "why? Jealous?" He smirks tauntingly. But Haru just huffs and rolls his eyes. He wishes they'd just shut up about this.

"Shut up."

"I get it... Makoto walks into a room with his modelesque good looks and everyone's eyes are on him."

He glances at Sousuke. He's considered good looking, right? As in people would consider Yamazaki attractive? He's only ever been attracted to Makoto but the artist in him recognizes that he's probably considered to be traditionally attractive. "Maybe they're looking at you."

Sousuke shrugs with a smirk, "it's a possibility. I've had my fair share of admirers but with Makoto... I've had to help him beat them off with a stick once or twice."

Haru growls in irritation at the revelation, "that doesn't happen when _I'm_ around."

"Probably because they don't want to approach him while he's with a sourpuss."

 _..._ _**I'm** _ _the sourpuss? Have you met yourself?_

"...How many?"

"How many what?"

He glares at him. Yamazaki knows _exactly_ what he's asking. _The ass_.

He laughs, "I've lost track of how many eyes follow him around campus but he's had a handful of confessions since we've started hanging out."

 _That's it_ , he decides. The next time he's on campus with Makoto, he's dragging him up to the rally stage in the middle of his campus and making out with him for everyone to see. _**Not**_ _because I'm jealous_ , he tells himself. But because he knows that all the attention makes Makoto uncomfortable so if he makes it clear that Makoto is _unavailable_ **and** _uninterested_ for all to see, they'll leave him alone. _Yeah. That's why. It's strictly for Makoto's benefit._ He nods affirmatively to himself. _It's a good plan._ Ignoring the fact that said plan is sure to garner even _more_ attention and Makoto may actually die of embarrassment if said plan were to ever be carried out. _A viable plan_.

"You said you're handy in the kitchen?"

He smirks, looking supremely smug and confident, "well, I certainly won't be reaching for a fire extinguisher."

"Good enough. You can help."

"Oh, how generous of you, Haruka."

His eyes widen at his given name and looks away, "Haru," he mutters quietly.

"What?"

"... _Don't_ call me Haruka. It's _Haru_ ," he clarifies louder. Haru notices the smirk and realizes he called him Haruka for the sole purpose of annoying him.

"Haru, it is."

* * *

Turns out, Sousuke's more than 'pretty handy.' He's highly competent as he deftly navigates the kitchen and he ends up cooking half the meal much to Haru's delight.

He's still an idiot though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, they're all idiots. I don't mean to use that word so excessively but sometimes... And at this point, it's a term of endearment. (Boom! Title name!) I really don't know how any of them are functional human beings, haha.
> 
> Jesus fucking Christ, Rin, I need to wash your mouth with a heavy duty solvent.
> 
> I had a different conversation lined up for Makoto and Rin but then I thought, "hey, wouldn't it be nice if they had a conversation that didn't revolve around Haru?" So I scrapped that one for the one we get here. I think it's much better.
> 
> Also, as I was writing the Haru-Sousuke portion, I kept going back and forth on calling him Sousuke and Yamazaki. I was going to change it to make it consistent but I decided to leave it because Haru probably goes back and forth on it too.
> 
> Well, that's a lot of notes...
> 
> Anyway, it's been a weird week and I thrive on feedback. So be a dear, leave a comment or what have you and brighten up my day! ( ˘ ³˘)
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	7. January

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an exhausting chapter. I knew the elements I wanted in this (which were like, a million, so I had to edit myself) but actually putting it into words was a test to my patience. And writing in conjunction with other chapters and switching back and forth whenever a new idea formed did not help. So yeah, exhausting. Wake me when the year ends.
> 
> Very, very explicit.  
> Obscenely explicit.  
> Just smut.  
> Straight up smut and nothing but smut.  
> Proceed with caution.  
> Don't say I didn't warn you.  
> Because I did.  
> I am.  
> This is me.  
> Warning you.  
> (/°○°)/Warning.Warning.Warning.
> 
> Otherwise, go nuts and enjoy!

His mind serenely drifts off for a late afternoon nap when he registers the keys at the door. Makoto's classes must have ended early today. He would otherwise greet him but he just made himself comfortable, curling up on his side and not wanting to leave the relaxing warmth of the bed. Makoto will find him eventually anyway. The sun sits low on the horizon and the deep reds and oranges filter through the window, making the room glow in a calming dusk. Sleepily, he listens to Makoto's gentle shuffling and the familiar, soothing pitter-patter finally lulls him to sleep.

Makoto tip-toes around the flat, knowing Haru is either soaking in the bath or resting on his day off. He drops his bag at the dining table and collects the clean bowls and chopsticks by the sink and puts them in their rightful place; Haru will want a clean kitchen to operate in. Padding over to the bathroom, he gently pushes the door open but upon finding no Haru in the bath, he turns to the bedroom.  
He slips in quietly, and wondering how long he's been asleep, he smiles when he notices that Haru is curled up on one side of the bed, as if leaving a vacant space just for him. Haru, while not prone to spreading out like a starfish to sleep like Makoto is, tends to sleep toward the center when he's not sharing a bed.

Lifting the blanket just enough, he slides in behind him, snuggling into him while trying not to disturb him. Which proves to be rather difficult as Haru's warmth draws him closer and closer and before he knows it, his nose is buried in Haru's neck and his hands are drifting underneath his shirt. His lips brush lightly against the nape of his neck and feels Haru shiver at the touch. His fingers softly trace his abdominal muscles, skating higher and higher until his finger catches a pert nipple. 

Haru blinks in and out of consciousness, the sleep that embraced him not long ago slowly releasing him to wakefulness. Rubbing his face against the soft pillow, he lets out a soft, sleepy moan. Makoto strokes his nipple, alternating between a feather light touch and rough thumbing as if strumming a guitar until he's whimpering.

"Good afternoon, Haru-chan."

“Makoto... I just got to sleep," Makoto can hear the slight pout in his voice.

"Ah," his tone remorseful, "I'm sorry, Haru. I'll let you go back to your nap."

He was genuinely ready to stop his ministrations and let Haru continue on with his nap but Haru curls his arm behind him to keep him there, "stay. You can't wake me up, tease me, and then leave me like this."

Makoto nuzzles his ear, "of course not. How silly of me."

Haru starts to roll over but Makoto tightens the grip he has on his hip. "Stay like this," he rumbles in his ear, "wanna try something."

Haru wriggles against him, as if trying to find the comfort and velvety warmth he had woken up to. His hand slithers from Haru's hip back under his shirt, his large hand spread flat at his taut stomach, his thumb stroking his skin. Makoto's top knee nudges at him and slides his leg between Haru's, gliding his muscular thigh toward his crotch. Pleased to find that Haru decided to take his nap in just a t-shirt and boxer briefs, he drags his thigh against his cotton covered, soft cock, slowly working him until he's semi-hard. Haru rocks back against him, seeking the friction Makoto isn't readily providing. Haru reaches for his knee, wanting to grind on him but Makoto draws his hand back, pinning it to the bed.

"Relax. I'm here, Haru. Don't be so impatient. I've got you." Haru moans in frustration but then gasps when his hand returns to his chest, his calloused fingers plucking at his nipple. "I've got you," he repeats, "not gonna let you go."

With his free hand, Makoto eases Haru’s underwear; inching and tugging it down, starting at the hip pinned to the bed. After several minutes of working the garment, he finally gets it over one cheek and then goes to sliding the other side down. Still just half hard, Haru murmurs in relief at being freed from his confines but his briefs are bunched uncomfortably around his upper thighs, right under his ass cheeks.

Makoto fingers his chest some more, circling the sensitive bud and then pinching it. At Haru's pained, yet pleasured gasp, he gently rubs him, soothing the ache from the rough treatment. His hands itch to touch him _everywhere_. He abandons the tortured bud and drifts down his ribs, tracing the outlines of his muscles and then twirling his fingers in the light fuzz that points down to his cock which stirs hungrily in interest. The hand then takes a sharp turn, avoiding Haru's swelling member and stops at his hip instead. He apologizes for neglecting the ignored nipple that is begging for the same kind of attention he paid to the other and Haru grumbles that _that's_ **not** what he should be apologizing for.

Makoto pushes his boxers lower, leaving it bunched at his knees while granting himself better access. He drags a neatly manicured fingernail slowly over his leg; from his knee to his hip. Haru twitches; trying to evade the tickling sensation so Makoto slips his hand between his legs instead, kneading the soft, tantalizing flesh of his inner thighs. Haru exhales noisily; moaning throatily as his fingers graze the juncture where his thigh and crotch meet. He slides his leg along Haru's, his toes curling against his calves.

"Makoto..."

"I know, Haru. I know."

He palms his ass, the scalding heat from his hands burning Haru's already heated skin; branding him. His fingers draw nonsensical patterns on his smooth, firm globes before running his finger down his cleft. Haru sucks in a sharp breath at the unexpected touch and whimpers when Makoto’s knuckle grazes the prominent groove above his ass crack. Makoto draws away and Haru whines at the loss of contact.

Bringing his foot up, he nudges at Haru's legs, "lift up."

Haru parts his legs as wide as he can with his boxers still restraining his knees. Makoto slips his leg between the opening and Haru suppresses a laugh, "wouldn't it be easier to just take my underwear off?"

He strokes his hip, unaware that he's doing so, "...maybe. I like my way better."

This time, Haru does laugh, "you're ridiculous."

“Yeah, but you like that about me, don’t you?"

He nods in agreement, "I do."

Unconsciously, Haru’s hand begins drifts down, intending to stroke himself considering Makoto is refusing to do so but Makoto sees the movements and the deep rumble from his chest makes him stop cold, “don’t. Don’t touch yourself, Haru."

The low growl of his warning whips him into unexpected arousal, sending shudders deep to his bones. It's commanding. And dark. And rich. And dripping with an unvoiced promise of... something.  _Fuck_ , he thinks, _I'm going to come just by the sound of his voice_.

"I said I’ve got you, didn’t I? That I’ll take care of you.” Haru growls in dismay; he _says_ that but he's not actually _doing_ that, is he?

"Makoto." _I want to kiss you.  
_

"Me too, Haru. Me too." He props himself on his elbow and they both crane their necks to reach the others lips, their mouths swallowing each others sighs. Leaning over Haru, he plants his hands on either side of him and taps his tongue at his lips. Haru heartily opens his mouth to welcome him. Their lips, tongue, and teeth clash and collide together frenziedly. 

Haru strokes the roof of his mouth with his tongue, savoring the heady, sweet, slightly acidic taste that is distinctly Makoto. Makoto shifts his weight to his left and his free hand skims down Haru’s chest and rib cage before stopping just short of his pelvis. Haru huffs in frustration.  
Makoto hasn't touched him _how_ or _where_ he wants him to  _ **at all**_ this entire time and he's now achingly,  ** _painfully_** hard. All the blood rushing to his groin leaves him _purple_ and _swollen_ and _tender_ and _dripping_. He feels, rather than hear, Makoto's chuckle and he elbows him in retaliation but that just makes him laugh harder. 

He nibbles at Haru’s jawline by way of apology and he finally, _**finally**_ encircles his long fingers around him in a loose fist. Haru moans and trembles, thrusting futilely in hopes of either relieving the hot, coiling pressure or somehow convincing Makoto to take pity on him and tighten his grip. Which he infuriatingly does not. Instead, Makoto lowers himself onto his side, pressing his body against Haru's back and sliding his left arm under him to hold him closer. His lips skate over the nape of his neck and presses hot, wet, open mouthed kisses across his clothed back. Haru reaches behind him for Makoto, fingers curling into his hair, fisting the thick, coarse strands as Makoto pumps him slowly, steadily.

"Makoto... You feel so good. _More_. Please... So good.  _Please_ ," Haru writhes impatiently, grinding his ass at Makoto’s erection as if that will persuade him to jerk him harder and faster. Makoto, _impossibly_ , hardens even more at the husky, needy timbre of Haru's voice.

He grunts at his throbbing erection, straining harshly against his slacks, the metal teeth of the zipper biting painfully into him even through the cotton of his boxer briefs. He has never been very good at denying Haru and this time is no different. And really, how could he when Haru's on the verge of tears, desperately pleading for Makoto's touch. Picking up his speed, he strokes his shaft harder, his thumb swiping at the curved tip at every pass, and coating his dripping, needy cock with every fresh drop of pre-come. 

Haru flings the blanket off his burning body, complaining about how hot it is, how it was suffocating him and they both welcome the cool air skimming over their scorching flesh. Makoto bends his knee, planting his foot on the bed and with Haru's leg draped over his knee, he spreads Haru's thighs as much as he can with his boxers _still_ wrapped around his knees.

At Makoto's next pass up, his hand lingers there, fingering the foreskin and then pulling it back with his thumb and ring finger. His index finger probes his weeping slit and Haru thrashes violently against him, his deep, low, husky groan reverberating in his chest. He tries to swallow, to lick his dry lips but his mouth and throat had long grown dry at Makoto's frustratingly teasing touches. Makoto adds his middle finger and together, they swipe and rub, dip and probe at his exposed and twitching cockhead. Haru pumps his hips the best he could, rubbing his ass _again_ at Makoto's hard cock as a silent  _begging_ for the release Makoto has been denying him since he woke him from his nap. 

Makoto finally curls his long fingers around him again, stroking him with a fast, firm grip whilst his index finger continues to swipe and probe at his slit.

Makoto licks the side of his neck and growls lowly, "you feel so good, Haru. Love the way you feel in my hands." Makoto bites his earlobe and twists his hand. Haru arches back against him, finally finding his voice and shouting Makoto's name as he comes furiously in thick, hard spurts; drenching the sheets and coating Makoto's hand and fingers with his hot climax. Makoto continues to pump him, emptying him until Haru slumps against him in a quivering mess.

Withdrawing his hand, Makoto examines the come covered hand before licking his thumb clean. At his guttural, delightfully filthy groan, Haru twists his head to see what had produced the sound. What he found would have made him hard all over again if it weren't for the fact that he had just been completely spent not two minutes ago.  
Makoto opens his eyes, finding and holding Haru's gaze as he lazily, deliberately licks and sucks his fingers clean.

"You're delicious, Haru-chan." He whimpers at the combination of words. Makoto leans toward him, his lips glistening and his voice dropping several octaves as he asks, "would you like a taste?"

He doesn't take the time to examine why that proposition is so appealing when it really shouldn't but he barely has a chance to nod before Makoto dips his head and captures his mouth in a fiery kiss, his tongue pushing past his lips and teeth and diving straight for his tongue, letting Haru taste himself on his tongue. 

Haru moans into the kiss, pushing his tongue against Makoto and groaning in exasperation when he pulls away. His insistence on frustrating him today was, well, frustrating. But then Makoto taps a come stained finger at his lower lip and he automatically opens his mouth and draws it in, wrapping his eager lips and tongue around the digit and sucking hungrily, _greedily_ at it. Again, not examining why it turns him on as much as it does.

"Fuck," Makoto's trembling at the thought of Haru's mouth, tongue, and lips on various body parts. Especially one in particular. Haru must have the same idea as he trying to twist his body to face him but failing. Makoto chuckles breathlessly, "I'm stuck."

He releases his finger from his mouth long enough to grumble, "well, who's fault is that?" Makoto just grins boyishly at him as he pushes his underwear down and Makoto aids him in doing so, easing it off with his foot. 

Finally completely free of his restraints, Haru pushes Makoto onto his back and straddles him. Makoto lifts his left arm, clenching and unclenching his fist, trying to work some circulation back into his arm after lying on it for so long. "My arm fell asleep," he pouts and lets his arm flop uselessly onto the sheets, landing in the pool of cooling semen and groans, "and we made another mess..."

"Good thing I did the laundry then."

He looked at him in surprise, " _you_ did laundry?"

Haru smirks, "I do know how to do laundry, Makoto. I've lived by myself for years. How do you think my clothes got clean?"

Makoto shrugs and quips, "magic laundry fairies?"

He rolls his eyes and laughs, "only you would think that's a thing."

Haru reaches behind his neck and pulls his shirt over his head. He leans down, hovering over Makoto and flicking his tongue at his lips while a stray hand cups his throbbing cock through his trousers. "I want to taste you too." Slotting his lips against his boyfriend's, he hums at Makoto's eagerness.

When Makoto's brain finally processes Haru's words, he moans. It was a stray thought from earlier but he hadn't meant for Haru to pick up on it. Although... it would have been laughable had he missed it. "Wait, Haru, do you mean... You don't have to do that."

"Were you not paying attention? I said I _want_ to."

“But-"

"When have I ever done something I don't want to?"

"Fair enough but," he silences himself at Haru's glare.

" _No_ _buts_." He finds himself nodding, "no buts."

"Good. Now, it's not fair that _I'm_ naked and you're still fully dressed, is it?"

"I suppose it's very rude of me..."

"Glad you agree." 

He pushes his shirt up, hands and fingers sliding up the smooth skin encasing his abs and chest. Haru plants hot, open mouthed kisses at his well muscled stomach and heaving chest. He yanks his shirt off, not breaking contact with him.  
But Makoto seems to have different plans as he's pulling Haru up to straddle his stomach instead. Jerking him down, and causing Haru to yelp and brace himself over his head, Makoto latches onto the nipple that he had egregiously neglected earlier. He rubs and licks at the dusky nub with the flat of his tongue and alternates between sucking harshly and laving tenderly at it. He continues his laser focus treatment all the while Haru pants over him, his arms trembling and shaking as he struggles to keep himself from collapsing. He scrapes the thoroughly abused bud with the backs his teeth and Haru shouts Makoto's name.

Makoto releases him at the sound, the area surrounding it is red, purple, and puffy, leaving a chaste kiss. "Haru..." he slides him down, wanting to reach his mouth.

His gasp gets lost in Makoto's throat as his sore, raw nipple grazes against Makoto's. The skin to skin contact leaves him whining and panting for more. "No f-fair... I'm supposed to be doing this to you."

"Sorry... Got carried away," he drags a large hand along his sleek back before raking it through his disheveled but still silky, dark hair, "don't let me keep you from doing what you want."

He chews his lip, debating on  _where_ to start. He finally figures his jugular is as good a place as any and presses light, teasing kisses upon the throbbing vein, relishing in the _thump-thump_ ing of the hot blood rushing just under the surface. Makoto arches, baring his neck to him for better access as Haru continues his relentless assault on the smooth column, angry reds and purples quickly blooming along the length. His fingers glide over his chest, stopping to tease at the hardened nubs to return the favor he had to endure earlier. Eager lips and tongue trail after his fingers and before Makoto realizes it, Haru’s tongue curls around his nipple; flicking and swirling at the erect bud, bathing the sensitive bundle of nerves with his hot, wet mouth.

"Fuck, Haru... Please..." He pleads, unsure of exactly _what_ he was begging for. But then Haru captures the red, aching nipple between his teeth and tugs at it sharply. Makoto shouts Haru's name and melts into the mattress as a hot jolt of arousal shoots straight to his cock.

Haru grins against his chest; he now has a new cheat: Makoto _likes_ to have his nipples bitten. He does it again, a bit gentler this time, but Makoto arches off the bed, pushing his chest further into his mouth. 

He becomes acutely aware that the grip he has on Haru's hips are hard enough to leave bruises. He drags him down his body until they're aligned. He rolls his hips at him but Haru lifts away. Makoto nearly sobs and chokes out in a gasp, "Haru... What...? No... Please, please,  _please_."

"You spent an infinite amount of time denying me. I think I owe you for that."

"You... You enjoyed it," he unconvincingly glares.

"And now, you'll enjoy this." Haru returns to his chest but this time focusing on the other nipple, spending an impossible amount of time and attention on it as Makoto writhes and thrashes under him.

Haru's oral attentions finally move southward, starting with the underside of his pectorals and drifting to his stomach. He can feel Haru's smirk against his skin at the way his muscles twitch and clench as his lips and tongue swirl over the peaks and valleys of his stomach. His tongue dips into his navel and Makoto feels the hot, coiling heat threaten to overtake him and he is just _so_ close. He whimpers at the thought; just a few more centimeters and his mouth would be at his most aching need. 

Haru licks his lips at the straining bulge that is begging to be freed. He sits up, fiddling with the button of his slacks, scrunching his nose and pursing his lips as if thinking long and hard on whether or not to continue or leave him needy and writhing. He watches Makoto swallow shakily as he stays silent, willing Haru to choose the former. Which, _duh_ , of course he's going to choose the former. He meant it when he said he wanted to taste him; wants to know how he'd feel on his tongue. His nimble fingers work the button loose, maintaining eye contact with him even as the metal teeth of his zipper screech in their ears. Tilting his head, he sucks in a light gasp at watching the relief and pleasure play out on his boyfriend's face. 

Makoto lazily blinks his eyes, blinking blearily as he tries to clear his vision. But Haru is shifting again and he can only groan as his eyes flutter shut once again. Haru taps his thigh and he instinctively lifts his hips for him. Haru slowly drags his pants down his legs; the cotton feeling unusually rough—like sandpaper—against his tender skin. Finally free of the awful article of clothing, he sighs in relief. Suddenly, he's attacked with a fit of giggles loudly when Haru blows a stream of cold air at his instep, nearly kicking him in the face.

"Shit, Haru! Don't do that!"

He merely shrugs, "it was funny."

"I nearly took your head off."

"And you would be a sobbing, whimpering mess had you done that."

He shudders at the thought. "Good thing I didn't then. Still though, maybe _don't_ do that just in case." Haru nods because having your head taken off really isn't worth the ten seconds of unbridled laughter. Besides, there are other ways to get that reaction out of him. 

Instead, he drags his wet lips over his ankle and over his powerful calves as his hand glides over the opposite leg. Bending his leg, he suckles at the tendon running down the backside of his knee until Makoto unleashes a deep, guttural groan and sinks bonelessly into the mattress. When he decides he's abused the tendon enough, he pulls away and caresses the large, purple hickey that blossomed with his thumb. He quickly switches his attention to the other leg, he continues his trek upward, his tongue laving at his inner thigh. 

Makoto slides his feet over the mattress, trying not to thrust his hips _but he's just so damn close_. And it's the sweetest kind of torture but _**fuck**_ , he's barely been touched as Haru's been pointedly avoiding his erection but he swears he's going to come anyway. His breath hitches and his groan turns into a low, shaky moan when Haru rubs his cheek against his groin. Like a cat asking to be petted. His sob of " _Haru_ " is a strained, broken yell when he palms at the dark, wet spot of his stained briefs, a spot that grows larger and darker when Haru mouths him through the cotton. An impressive string of expletives mixed in with gasps and _Harus_ and moans tumble from Makoto's lips like a waterfall. 

The tenting of his boxer briefs that was a source of arousal earlier is now a source of annoyance; something that is keeping him from Makoto's hot, bare, velvety flesh. Hooking his fingers at the band, he wiggles the garment off, tossing it carelessly behind him. He bites his lip, licking his lips at the view of Makoto lying bare before him: his oozing, swollen cock swaying and twitching in the air. 

And _sweet baby Zeus_ , his cock is just _so big_ , which, _duh_ , he already knew that. They've been naked more times than he can count but he's about to take him in his mouth and how is he supposed to do that when he's _**so big**_? And how is he even supposed to start? What if he fucks up? What if he inadvertently hurts him? What if he's a terrible cocksucker? It's not like he's done this before... He shakes his head. Now isn't the time to second guess himself. He’ll know soon enough how receptive Makoto will be with his untrained but eager curiosity. He’s determined to do this and decides it's probably best to just do what comes natural. That's how they've approached every step in their relationship up until now so why change it? 

The beginnings of the hot, coiling ache at the pit of his stomach return. He can feel himself twitching. He wants to keep staring but Makoto reaches for him so he leans down and brushes his lips at his jutting hip bones. He sighs at the feel of the warm, smooth skin under his lips, drifting lower and lower while Makoto pants above, his hands fisting at the sheets. Makoto seems to be holding his erratic breath, straining to keep still even as he feels Haru's hot breath curl around his shaft. 

Swallowing roughly, he licks his dry lips and looks up at Makoto. A thin, delicious sheen of sweat has formed at his brow and chest. He finds himself hypnotized by the rise and fall of his toned, broad chest and by the clenching and unclenching of his jaw. Noticing the fresh beads of pre-come trickling from the slit, he places a gentle, _barely-_ there kiss at the head but that's enough to send Makoto shooting off the bed. The pants of  _more-more-mores_ and _yes-yes-yeses_ and _please-please-pleases_ and _Haru-Haru-Harus_ ring melodically in his ears.  
Spurred on by Makoto's lust, he kisses down the side of his shaft: from tip to base and licks back up, tracing the angry, throbbing vein and then dipping his pointed tongue into his leaking slit. The first drop that hits his tongue is a little sweet, a little salty, a lot bitter, and _all_ addicting. Parting his mouth, he slips just his cockhead past and wraps his lips around him, swirling his tongue. 

Makoto sobs incoherently, his hands gripping at the headboard so tightly that his knuckles turn white and the veins in his forearms pop in stark relief. His legs spread apart as he plants his feet; his heels trying to dig into the bed but they keep sliding over the smooth sheets. Even though Haru's mouth is around him, he's still teasing. He's made no move to take him deeper; content with lapping at the head... _like a cat lapping at a bowl of milk._ So he's begging; _**pleading**_ with Haru to take him deeper, to lick him harder, to _suck_ him. But his pleas fall on deaf ears as he outright ignores him. _Like a **fucking** cat; ignoring everything and everyone until it suits them_.  
The backs of his teeth catches his foreskin lightly and he's shouting profanities _so vulgar_ , it would make Rin blush. After several more torturous lashes of his tongue, Haru finally— _thankfully_ —decides that listening suits him. He parts his lips, taking him further in an albeit, agonizingly slow pace. 

Haru takes him as deep as he can without choking, which is just a little more than halfway, and makes a mental note to take more of him next time. And more the time after that. He hollows his cheeks; alternating between sucking him firmly and delicately. He cups his balls, rolling the full, heavy sack in a warm hand and tickles his perineum. A finger grazes dangerously close to Makoto's puckered hole and Haru's fingernail catches him lightly. He can feel Makoto’s thighs twitch against him and he's showering Haru with an inordinate amount of compliments and praise.

“Fuck, Haru… so, _so_ good,” he babbles as he brushes his dark hair from his face and cups the back of his head. “Ha-Haru…” he gasps, “so hot. So fucking hot, Haru.”

The combination of Makoto's praise, the knowledge that he's falling apart under _his_ touch, and the feel of his cock in his mouth and the taste on his tongue arouses Haru all over again as he readjusts himself against the hard mattress. 

The vibrations from a muffled moan around his cock causes Makoto's hips to jerk up, nearly bucking Haru off. Haru pins his hips to the bed and continues to suck at him ravenously; his nimble, clever tongue swirling and lapping his head. He peers down and groans at the sight of Haru’s pink lips stretched thin around his pulsing member. And moans at the sight of his cock disappearing into and re-appearing from Haru's mouth as his head bobs up and down between his legs. His slender fingers fisting whatever isn’t enclosed within his mouth, squeezing and stroking in time with his mouth.

"Oh fuck. So wet... So good... Haru. Ha-Haru. ...Love your hot mouth." The steady stream appreciation seemed endless. "So tight... Fuck. ...Fuck. Haru," he gently tries to pry Haru off him but to no avail, "you have to stop," he groans, "I'm... I'm gonna come," he gasps breathlessly.

Haru releases him briefly, his eyes trained on his face, "so come. I said I want to taste you." 

And then Haru's hot, tight mouth is wrapped around him once more, sucking intently. 

And Makoto arches, shouting Haru's name; every vein and artery in his body igniting a blistering fire as his powerful climax hits the back to Haru's throat; filling his wet, eager mouth with the thick, creamy come. 

And Haru is trying to swallow every last drop. But there's just too much. He nearly chokes and gags as it overflows—forcing him to release him— and splashing pearly streaks of come over his cheek. But Haru continues to lap at him; come sliding down his cock, coating his balls, and soaking the sheets underneath. 

A whimpering Makoto slumps into the mattress, his wrecked body quivering and trembling as Haru licks him clean. Haru finally releases him with a loud, wet pop and even though his brain has been deliciously scrambled, he couldn't help but think how obscenely lewd the sound is. Haru crawls up his body, dropping gentle kisses along the way.

Reaching his chin, he nips at him, "would you like a taste," he asks in a low, husky voice. The _fuck yes_ is quickly swallowed up and might not have been actually voiced but it reverberates throughout their bodies anyway. Their tongues slide over the other and Makoto isn't sure if he actually enjoys the taste of himself or if he just enjoys the taste because he’s tasting it on Haru. Either way, he wants more and Haru is more than happy to oblige. 

Makoto laughs airily as they pull away, "I can't believe you did that, Haru."

"What?"

"Swallow!"

"Oh." He shrugs indifferently, "I like the way Makoto tastes."

Makoto groans, "you can't say things like that, Haru... The things I want to do..."

"Sound interesting."

" _Haru_..."

Haru's lip curls up and rests his chin at the center of his chest, “how…" He shakes his head, he doesn't need to fish for confirmation. Instead, he asks, "what _was_ that? Earlier?”

Makoto rubs his cheek languidly with his own, "you mean when I touched you?" Feeling his nod, he entangles his fingers into his disheveled hair, “I've touched myself like that before. Thought you’d might enjoy it.”

“I did. Very much so.”

“Good. I’m glad." 

Haru dips his head and leisurely kisses him, pressing his body completely against him, the bare flesh driving him into a frenzy. Something pokes at his hip and when he realizes what it is, he moans.

"Fuck, Haru..." His hand drifts down his ribs and hips until he's got a handful of Haru's cock, "you're hard again." Haru pants his approval at Makoto's touch, "did you get hard while sucking my cock, Haru?"

He gasps, both at the unexpected question and at the hand pumping him.

"Did you like what you did to me? ...Did you like sucking me off? Making me come? ...Did you like having my cock in your hot, hungry mouth?"

No matter how many times he encounters _this_ Makoto, he still blushes into a state of shock. And he knows that when they finish, Makoto will remember what he said in the heat of passion and he'd flush into the deepest shade of red too. But right now, his skin itches at his husky voice and intoxicating words. It's not something to get used to; it's something to _anticipate_.

Haru nods frantically, "yes! Yes! Loved... loved sucking you off. Love your cock. Love your cock in my mouth. Want... Want... More," he gasps raspily.   

Haru's head suddenly hits a pillow and when he opens his eyes, he finds Makoto kneeling over him. His eyes darkened by arousal, "sorry, but it'll be a while yet. You did quite the number on me," he hums his approval at the memory. "But I want a nice, thorough taste of _you_." He licks Haru's lips, "would that be an okay substitute?" An answer is not forthcoming as Makoto's mouth quickly covers his own.

And then it's Haru's turn to chant the _more-more-mores_ and  _yes-yes-yeses_ and  _please-please-pleases_ and and _Makoto-Makoto-Makotos_. 

He settles in for a long, long, gloriously _long_ night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. _Oh my._ Hera, give me strength...
> 
> Sweet merciful Zeus. My sweet, beautiful Makoto is just so, so vulgar. The level of obscenity coming out of that boy's mouth... Jalapeño cheesy rice... Gonna need a heavy duty solvent for you too.
> 
> Too many cat similes for my liking but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ what can you do? Some cats are dickholes and Haru's content with being a dickhole in this instance.
> 
> Otherwise, it's a good chapter and I'm patting myself on the back. But please don't let that stop you from doing the same ;)  
> As always, drop me some feedback and I may decide to edit the next installment faster.
> 
> Edit: check out the addendum/continuation here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5422904


	8. February

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven’t seen or wasn’t made aware, there’s an addendum (posted separately) to Chapter 7, January. So you may want to check that out first. It’s not necessary to follow what’s going on in this chapter because the addendum was mostly pure smut but just in case you’re interested and missed it the first time around, I’ll link it to you: [January: An Addendum](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5422904)
> 
> Not sure when I'll have time again to post so I just wanted to post this before the holidays! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Makoto fidgets in a mix of excitement and nervousness in his seat, scanning over the program for Haru’s races. Haru is participating in several heats today: the 100m freestyle prelims and the 200m freestyle prelims. And if his times qualify, he’d also swim in both quarter-finals.

"Makoto," a heavy hand slaps Makoto's shoulder. Makoto’s eyes light up at the unexpected appearance of his friend.

“Sousuke! You're here! Wait, why are you here?"

He grins affectionately at his friend, "of course, I’m here. I have to support my friend in his first major competition, don't I?"

Makoto’s smile reaches his eyes, “Aw, you called him your friend!” Sousuke rolls his eyes at Makoto’s enthusiasm. “Haru will be so glad."

"Is that so? Best not to tell him then."

Makoto snorts, “why do the two of you insist on antagonizing each other?” Sousuke shrugs indifferently, unsure of how to answer. "And it's not just you and Haru. It’s _Rin_ and _Haru_. And then _you_ and _Rin_! Why can't you just admit that you like each other?"

"This is better. It's easier. Funnier. It’s just how we communicate. It's comfortable."

"It's unnecessary!"

Sousuke frowns, “well, what about you and Haru?"

"Haru and I don't antagonize each other!" Sousuke snorts and side-eyes him in disbelief. "I... We don’t!” Makoto insists before his brain snaps into place. He narrows his eyes, “wait... What has Haru been saying?"

"Nothing. But you asking that question tells me everything I need to know."

" _Sousuke_."

 _Ah. So **this** is the tone Rin and Haru were talking about._ It... amuses him. He still doesn't care for it though.

"I don't care for that tone, Makoto."

Makoto crosses his arms and sits at his full height, clearly going for intimidating which is difficult to do to someone who is basically the same size as you, "I don't care what tone you do or don’t care for, Sousuke. Ignore whatever Haru's been saying."

He shakes his head in denial, "I told you, he hasn't said anything."

"Yeah right," Makoto rolls his eyes in a way that would make Haru proud.

"Oh look, Haru's heat is next."

"No it’s not. It's not for another 20 minutes."

_Damn it._

"Oh hey, have you registered for classes for next semester?"

"Don't change the subject!"

"I'm not! It's a serious question!"

He narrows his eyes but lets it slide all the same, "I don't register until Friday. Why?"

"I thought maybe we can take Principles of Anatomy together. You have to take that class for your degree, right?"

"Yeah…"

He nods and grins at Makoto's bewilderment, "well, our study sessions from this semester have been really helpful so I thought maybe we can keep it up."

Their study sessions have been very helpful. He's understanding the material better and he seems to be having an easier time than last semester.  
...Even if they take frequent breaks to play video games or otherwise finding other ways of procrastinate in their work.

"What sections are you looking at?"

"I heard good things about Dr. Yoshino's class and he's got two classes available: Monday-Wednesday, from 11-12:30 and Tuesday-Thursday, from 1:30-3."

Makoto scratches his chin, "I'll have to double check the schedule. I might have to shuffle some things around but yeah, sounds good."

"Cool. Lemme know before Thursday, yeah? I register in the morning."

“Sure."

They discuss the final exam in two weeks' time and laments on the question they both missed on the midterm until Haru's heat is announced. They shout and scream his name but are drowned out by the rest of the cheering patrons. That doesn't stop them from screaming until their throats grow raw though.

* * *

"Not bad, Nanase," his praise is lukewarm at best and once again, clearly trying to antagonize him.

"I finished second."

Sousuke rocks back on his heels and smirks, "that's still not first."

"Whatever. Idiot."

Makoto sighs. He knows that this is what they consider 'friendly' banter but honestly, it's maddening that they can't say two words to each other without some kind of snarky undertone.

"Am I going to have to lock you two in a room?"

"So we can kill each other?"

"Please, like you can even touch me."

"You want to find out? Who's the professional athlete here?"

"Professional athlete in training." Haru glares at him.

"Okay. That's enough. Let's just get dinner, okay? I will not stand for any bloodshed." The two smirk at each other and it became obvious that they just wanted to get a rise out of Makoto just as much as they did the other.

Makoto huffs and rolls his eyes. "Did you get to see your parents, Haru?"

"Yeah. We're supposed to have brunch tomorrow."

"Oh. That's nice. It's been a while since you've had a meal with them."

"We as in you, me, them."

He stops abruptly, "wait, what?"

Haru arches an eyebrow in confusion, not understanding the panicked look on his face, "they want to see you.

"  
"But... Why?"

"Are you serious? ... Because they've known you for almost your whole life? Because they haven't seen you in a while? Because we grew up together? Because you're dating their son? Do I really need to explain this?"

"But…"

"What's the big deal? You know my parents. They know you."

"But that was before us!" He gesticulates wildly.

"Oh, for the love of... Makoto, nothing's changed. They still adore the nice boy next door that befriended their son." He paused for effect, "even if you are sleeping with their only son."

"Haru! Please don't say stuff like that in front of your parents…"

Sousuke snickers at the domestic quarreling. If it can even be called that. "I wish I had popcorn. This is very amusing."

"Shut up, Sousuke."

Sousuke ignores him though and continues, "meeting the parents. That must be exciting."

"He's not _meeting_ them. He's _met_ them. We're just having brunch together. Stop overreacting."

They continue to walk to the quiet cafe just around the corner when Sousuke notices Makoto wringing his hands and reassures him, "you'll be fine, Tachibana! You’re the most likable person I have _ever_ met. A single smile from you and anyone would be at your mercy. But first impressions are important so remember to be polite. And bring a gift."

Haru’s face remains indifferent but there's an palpable air of frustration emanating, “are you stoned? I just said it's not a big deal."

"Flowers for mom. Sake for dad,” Sousuke resumes.

And really, this is just another way of annoying Nanase.

Makoto nods his head at Sousuke's suggestions. "But obasan and ojisan have never followed traditional gender roles."

"Then sake for mom and flowers for dad. Problem solved."

Haru’s eyes narrow in irritation. To anyone else, they wouldn’t have even noticed. But Sousuke has been studying his face for subtle changes since this conversation started and this was definitely a Haru that's irritated at being ignored.

"What? No. Makoto, don't listen to him."

Makoto doesn't hear him and scratches his cheeks,"but flowers die. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like flowers but they don't last very long."

"Then get a plant. Or chocolates."

"Oo! Chocolate! I like chocolate."

" _You're_ not the one eating it, Makoto.” He pauses, smirking at his next comment. "It's for your _in-laws_."

"In-laws? What the hell are you talking about, Yamazaki?”

_Okay, that was more subdued than I was expecting… what a shame._

Haru grabs Makoto’s arm, "Makoto! Ignore Sousuke. He's delusional. Pay no attention to him."

"But Haru-chan... These are your parents!” He whines in a panic.

Haru stomps his foot, "I swear, Tachibana Makoto,” and punctuates each word with pokes at Makoto’s stupidly solid chest, "if you listen to any one of this buffoon's ideas, you are sleeping on the couch."

“Huh,” Sousuke murmurs in curiosity. "That was not how I thought that ultimatum would go."

“What do you mean?” Makoto tilts his head inquisitively.

"I mean, I just thought he was going to threaten to break up with you if you followed any of my recommendations."

Haru's expression finally noticeably changes as Haru and Makoto both look positively _horrified_ with wide eyes, eyebrows shooting up to their hairline and mouths gaping comically at the mere suggestion. Displeased mutterings of "woahs!" and "what the hell?" and "are you demented?" are thrown in his direction.

"We would _never_ joke about that. What is the matter with you?" Haru doesn't have a whole lot of expressions but Sousuke instantly recognizes that this one is some kind of combination of abject horror, nausea, outrage, and a pinch of... pity?

"Honestly, Sousuke... that's _not_ something you casually throw out when you want to get your way. That's... awful." Makoto shakes his head at him and, sweet baby Zeus, if there's one thing to go through life without ever experiencing, it would be having Tachibana Makoto shake his head at you in disappointment.

"All right! Okay. I get it. Forget my suggestions, Makoto. It's not worth it to sleep on the couch. That thing is a torture device."

There's a long pause as Sousuke holds the door open for them, "but seriously, maybe flowers would be a good idea."

"Oh, for the love of...!"

* * *

His arms are folded over his chest and he taps an impatient finger on his elbow. “So… you’re the boy my son has decided to bring home,” Mr. Nanase’s eyes narrow at Makoto but there’s a playful glint behind it.

Haru rolls his eyes in boredom, “we’re at a restaurant, dad."

He waves his hand dismissively, “You know what I mean."

“And it’s not like I’ve never brought him home before. I’ve brought him home nearly every other day. For years. You’ve watched him grow up for crying out loud."

“Stop teasing Haruka and Makoto-kun, dear."

“If I can’t tease my son, who can I tease?"

Makoto feels his face light up in an unhealthy shade and feels hotter than it has ever been before, “it’s very good to see you again, obasan, ojisan."

“It’s nice to see you too, Makoto-kun.”

Mr. Nanase scratches his chin, "I must say, I never thought you'd bring some one home for us to meet."

"Is everyone mental? I'm not bringing him _home_. And you're not _meeting_ him. You've known Makoto for almost his _whole life_."

His mother laughs at her son’s exasperation, “first meeting or not, it doesn't matter as long as he's taking care of my son."

“What do you think he’s _been_ doing all these years?"

A terse silence falls over the table. Makoto's arm freezes in midair as he had been attempting to pour tea. Haru's eyes widen as he realizes what he said and his parents look away shamefully.

“I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean it like that… I-"

His father shakes his head gently, “no, we… we deserved that. We weren’t there for you when you needed us. We’re sorry."

Haru shakes his head adamantly, “I made the decision to stay."

“You were a child,” Haru’s mother begins to say.

“I wasn't..." he insisted.

He didn't want his parents to feel bad about leaving him in Iwatobi. Yes, there were moments where he resented them but they were brief moments that were few and far between.

“You were. You might have been more mature than the kids your age, but you were still a child. We shouldn’t have agreed so easily,” her voice is gentle but laced with painful undertones.

“I didn’t give you a choice. I _wanted_ to stay. I’m _glad_ I stayed."

And he really was. Truly. Because if he hadn't stayed, he wouldn't have been reunited with Nagisa and Rin and Gou.  
He wouldn't have met Rei.  
He wouldn't have had his best friend.  
His life would have been a little bit colder, lonelier, a little bit emptier. He _needed_ his parents to understand that. He doesn't blame them at all. Because he loved the life he had in Iwatobi. Even the not so great parts.

“Then we should have been _there_ , Haruka,” his father insists.

"...You're here now. That's just as important. That's all that matters."

His mother nods gratefully but her eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “Makoto-kun… I truly have to thank you for taking care of Haruka. I can’t express my gratitude."

Makoto rubs the back of his head bashfully, “honestly, he takes care of _me_ more than I do him. I just delivered him the bentos my mom made."

Haru swallows the lump in his throat at Makoto downplaying everything he's done and _still_ does for him.

“Then we’ll have to thank your parents as well."

“How about this? The next time you boys have a long break we’ll fly back to Iwatobi."

“Dad…"

“What? You don’t want to?"

“I do. Of course, I do but…"

“Well, there you go. We haven’t been back in a while. We can see our friends. You can see your friends. Check up on the house. Make sure we like the tenants and if we don’t, we’ll kick them out."

“The Tachibanas recommended them. They’re good people, Dad."

“Well then, that’s something else we’ll have to thank your parents for, Makoto-kun."

“That settles it. The next time you have a break, the four of us will go home. My treat."

“Oh no, ojisan, I couldn’t possibly accept,” at Haru’s mother’s good-natured glare, he clears his throat and amends, “I mean, thank you very much, ojisan, obasan."

Nanase-san claps his hands and rubs them together, "excellent! Let's order some food, hm? I'm starving. Your mother didn't let me have breakfast."

"I told you to have some toast! It's not my fault you refused it!"

As his parents bicker good-naturedly in the background, Haru exhales in relief. He did not expect to have this conversation with his parents. At least, not in front of Makoto. But when Makoto reaches under the table to squeeze his hand and smiles at him reassuringly, he was glad he's here.

Really, _really_ glad.

 _Gods, I love him_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need more Sousuke in my life.
> 
> We're finally outside the apartment!! I know we've been outside the apartment before but those were really short scenes. So this is nice.
> 
> Oh, and uh, in case anyone is wondering... Makoto totally gave Haru a celebratory suck job when they got home.  
> I can already hear Stern!Makoto at that.
> 
> Thanks for visiting! See you next water time!


	9. March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I didn't fall off a cliff! Apologies for taking so long! But at long last, I'm posting!
> 
> Now, this is one of my favorite chapters. It was an absolute joy to write and I'm just laughing so fucking hard.
> 
> Now, there's a lot going on in this chapter. Too many cocks in the kitchen. I mean, cooks! Too many cooks!  
> There's a lot of dialogue but I hope won't be too difficult to follow. There's a lot of talking over one another because that's what actually happens when a big group of people get together.

They barely make it through the door when a speeding flash of yellow careens into them. "MAKO-CHAN! HARU-CHAN! I'VE MISSED YOU SO MUCH!!" His grip on them is tight and he nuzzles his cheek against Haru's chest.

"We’ve missed you too, Nagisa," Makoto pats his head affectionately and then smiles at Rei, "you too, Rei."

Rei nods in return, happy they're together again after so long. "Nagisa-kun, please unhand Haruka-senpai. He's a professional athlete. You mustn't hurt him."

"I’m not hurting Haru-chan! Right, Haru-chan?"

"It’s fine, Rei." If he's being honest with himself, he missed the clingy blonde and all his antics. He’s not going to be honest with himself though. "And you can just call me Haru.” Rei gapes at him, wide eyed and speechless.

"I think you broke Rei-chan, Haru-chan."

"I’m fine!" He snaps out of his stupor, "it's just... It's just really good to see you and Makoto-senpai again. It's been too long."

"Rei... How many times do I have to tell you? Just Makoto is fine."

"Ah. Right. Of course. Sorry, Makoto-se— Makoto."

Nagisa pulls the two to a large table but forces them to squeeze in like sardines in a can.

“Rin’s not here yet?"

“Rin-chan should be here soon. He called ten minutes ago to say he got off the train." 

Makoto picks up a menu and asks, “what about Sousuke? Should someone pick him up?"

"Not me."

"Of course not, Haru-chan."

“Rin-san said that they’re going to get in around the same time. He’s waiting for him so they both should be here soon."

"What about Kou?” Haru asks curiously. He wasn’t sure if she planned on attending the impromptu reunion but hopes that she will. It’ll be nice to see her again too. 

Nagisa grins, “she has a _date_. She'll be here later."

“A date? A date with who?"

"Oh, Rin-chan, you look so different! Did you dye your hair? And go through another growth spurt?”

Makoto rolls his eyes playfully at Nagisa, “oh, haha. Very funny. I can't be concerned for her?”

"Of course you can. But there's no need. He's a very nice guy. Besides, Gou-chan can handle herself."

"It's true. I've seen her."

Makoto fidgets with the menu, chewing his lip and glancing around him nervously, “are we going to get kicked out? I feel like we’re going to get kick out. We’re going to get kicked out. I never should have let Rin choose this place."

"We’re not going to get kicked out,” Rin struts in with Sousuke trailing closely behind.

"Rin-chan! Sou-chan!"

"We’re at a bar, Rin! In case you haven’t noticed, none of us are 20!"

Rin grins cockily while the rest of the table glares at him unamused. Except for Nagisa. Nagisa smiles happily at him. "Oh, relax. We’ll be fine. I know the owner."

"You know the owner? You're so cool, Rin-chan!” Nagisa coos while Sousuke tuts at him, “how the hell would you know the owner of a bar?"

"The _owner_ is a friend of my _mom’s_."

"Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_. So we’ll be fine. They won’t be serving you alcohol. Just me."

“They shouldn’t be serving you alcohol at all!” Makoto hisses.

“Shh! They don’t know that!” Rin smothers his hands over his mouth. “Mom didn’t mention that when she asked him to let us hold our little get together here! Just that it was for her… _university-aged_ son. They didn’t ask her to elaborate. So shut up. I’m getting my goddamn alcohol."

Rei pushes his glasses up out of habit, “according to my calculations, if we stay here for three hours, Rin-san can safely consume three, 350 mL cans of beer _without_ getting impaired."

Rin’s scrunches his nose, "but… I _want_ to get drunk."

"You’re training to be an Olympic athlete, Rin-san! You shouldn’t be drinking!"

“That’s not the only reason why he shouldn’t be drinking…” Makoto mutters peevishly.

“Oh, shut up, you worrywart. Olympic athletes drink all the time! Haven’t you heard all the shit they get up to staying at the Olympic Village? Sex and alcohol. You’d fit right in, Haru,” he waggles his eyebrows in Haru and Makoto’s direction.

“ _Rin_."

"You know... I’m starting to like it when you use that tone with me, Makoto. It means I’m doing something right." He winks at him and Makoto predictably splutters.

While Rin calls to the server and orders some drinks (beer for him, tea for everyone else), Makoto grins amicably at Sousuke. “Hey, how'd you do on the final?"

"Actually, better than I expected. You?"

"About as good as I was expecting."

"We might have killed the curve."

“Whoops?"

Rin tries to follow the multitude of conversations from both sides before turning his attentions to Rei. "So Rei, are you ready for university?” The other conversations seem to break off to hear what the youngest of the group had to say.

"I’m a little nervous to be honest. But also excited. Tohoku University has an excellent Aeronautical Engineering program. I had an offer for Tokyo Institute of Technology but I just couldn’t turn down Tohoku’s offer."

"Rei-chan is a genius!” Nagisa boasts.

"I am sadden that we won’t see each as often as we could had I chosen Tokyo though.” His eyes dart from Makoto, Haru, and surprisingly, even Sousuke. Makoto smiles warmly and assures him that it’s only a two hour train ride and they’ll be able to meet up as often as they wish. "Yes. And perhaps I’ll pursue my graduate degree there after I’m done with my undergraduate."

"I’m proud of you. I’m sure your parents are too."

“You’re such a _mom_ , Mako-chan!"

“Shut up, Nagisa."

Rei clears his throat at the interruption, “yes, thank you, Makoto-sen— ah, sorry."

"It’ll take some time getting used to."

Haru nods firmly, “we’ll get a futon for you. You can stay with us when you come visit."

"Oh, Haruka-senpai, you don’t have to do that! Please don’t trouble yourself.” Haru aims a gentle glare at the blue haired member. "I... Thank you, Haruka-sen…” Another glare. "Haru. Ka-san."

"And you, Nagisa?” Sousuke asks, “have you decided?” Everyone at the table is briefly taken aback at the question coming from the _least_ likely member of their group.

"I did! I'm going to attend the University of Tsubuka!"

Makoto eyes widen in pleasant surprise, "really? That's only an hour and a half away!"

"Yep! You're going to see me _a lot_!” He winks and smiles at the table widely. He then turns his attention to Haru. "Get me a futon too, Haru-chan!"

Haru turn away, blowing his hair out of his eyes, “get your own futon."

"Aw, Haru-chan! That hurts me on the deepest level,” he clutches his chest in mock pain but quickly recovers to cling onto Sousuke instead, "I’ll stay with Sou-chan then!"

“Wait, what? I’m not getting you a futon either!”

They squabble some more until Rin suddenly to blurts out, “hey, hey, hey! I'm staying in Japan too!"

The squawking and giggling _screeches_ to a grinding halt at Rin's announcement. Only Makoto is smiling gently at him. "You've decided?"

Rin nods enthusiastically and grins, “yep!” 

Sousuke purses his lips and his eyes tighten in confusion, “decided what?"

"I'm moving my training to Japan!"

Nagisa gasps in unconstrained glee, “really, Rin-chan?” Rin nods and Nagisa claps happily, bouncing in his seat.

"You knew about this?” Haru asks his boyfriend.

Makoto rubs his neck sheepishly and shrugs, "I knew he was _thinking_ about it, yes."

"And you didn't tell me?” Sousuke waves his hand dismissively at Haru, “forget you! He didn't tell _me_!"

“Hey! Leave him alone.” He pushes Haru and Sousuke away from crowding Makoto even more, "I told him not to say anything to anyone!"

"Where?” Sousuke hopes that the question didn’t sound too breathless.

“No where close to you guys," Rin grumbles. "I'll be in Kyoto."

“It’s still closer than Australia,” Sousuke smiles happily.

Makoto's smile grows at that but still asks, "Rin, are you sure?"

"I am. I thought about it a lot. I took your advice and discussed it with my coach, some of the guys on the team. I didn't take this decision lightly, Makoto. I swear. You should see all the lists I made."

"And you're sure? You’re happy with this?"

"I am. I mean, it won't happen until May but…” he nods for emphasis, “ _really_ happy."

Makoto’s face stretches into a full blown smile, eyes twinkling in delight, “then I'm happy for you, Rin."

“Awww,” Nagisa fawns and then declares, " _DOG PILE ON RIN-CHAN_!"

"What? Wait! No! Olympic athlete here!!!"

"Oh, Rin-chan, you can't escape the dog pile!”

The unmistakable gleam in Nagisa's eyes sends a shiver down Rin's spine. Desperate to distract Nagisa from crushing him, he blurts, "Oh, hey, did you know that these two are banging?" Rin gestures enthusiastically in Makoto and Haru's direction.

“ _Rin_!"

Rin grins widely and he has never looked more shark-like than at that moment. "Heh, I love it when you said my name like that, Makoto."

“Oh-ho, Rin-Rin,” Nagisa chuckles in amusement, “that is just _so_ _cute_ ,” his chipper voice drops dramatically, “but I knew before you did."

Rin's head whips to Nagisa and then back to Haru and Makoto, "What? You told _him_ before you told _me_? Your oldest and dearest friend?”

Nagisa pulls his face in an exaggerated pout and stomps his foot, “hey, no fair! I’ve known Haru-chan and Mako-chan for as long as you have! I’m their oldest and dearest friend too!"

"You guys…” Makoto tries unsuccessfully to calm down the two rowdiest members of their group.

"Besides, I’ve _always_ known that they’d end up together!"

Rin scoffs haughtily, “ _everyone_ knew that! But that’s different from them _actually_ hooking up!"

Looking chagrined, Makoto interjects, "I wouldn't say _everyone_ knew…"

Sousuke snorts, “yeah, you two idiots didn’t."

“Hey!” one of the two idiots grumbles.

Nagisa folds his arms across his chest, "I still say I knew first."

Rin rolls his eyes. There’s no point in getting in this argument with Nagisa. Besides, he totally knows that he knew before Nagisa did. “I need another drink."

Feeling that things were about to get wildly out of hand, Rei tries to rein them in. The last thing Rin needs is more alcohol. "You haven’t even finished your first drink yet, Rin-san!"

"You shouldn’t be drinking at all, Rin."

He brings the bottle to his mouth and snorts, “bite me, Sou,” before taking a long drag of beer.

Sousuke rests his cheek against his palm and blinks sleepily at him, "I rather suck you."

After a brief, tense  _second_ of silence, an uncontrolled frenzy breaks out around the table instantaneously: the beer goes down the wrong pipe and Rin is choking and spluttering gracelessly. He slams the bottle down on the table so hard that the beer bubbles up and gushes through the narrow neck. Nagisa's mouth hangs open in a gleeful squeal and his eyes glimmer in a barely concealed delight while Rei covers half his face in shock—his glasses fogging up from the heat coming from his cheeks. Meanwhile, Haru sips his tea and calmly nods at Sousuke's rebuttal— it was a good come back. And Makoto gapes at the man next to him; he’s fully aware of how Sousuke feels about Rin but _holy fucking shit_ , _**this**_ is how he decides to confess?

Rin coughs violently—his throat becoming sore and raw from the heaving hacks, "WHAT?!"

Sousuke blinks at him sleepily, “hmm?"

“Don’t give me that shit! What the hell, Sou?"

"What?"

"Don’t play dumb! I know you know what you said!"

He rolls his bad shoulder and hums, "I don’t recall. Refresh my memory.”

Rin splutters hotly. "I will not!"

“You said you’d rather suck Rin,” Haru supplies helpfully—or **_un_** helpfully depending on who you ask.

A simultaneous thank you from Sousuke and a burst from Rin made the proceedings at the table even more chaotic— "Ah, that's right. Thank you, Haru.”—“ _Haru_!"

Haru’s arches an eyebrow, “Oh. Are you Makoto-ing me, Rin? It doesn’t have the same lilt. It’s not sexy. Like Makoto."

“ _Haru_."

His eyes widen fractionally, “oh. Now I’m getting it from both sides."

Sousuke snickers giddily and loudly, like a 12-year-old boy discovering the idea of sex for the first time, “phrasing."

“Really?"

"You said it, not me."

"Actually, you said _it_."

"Oh. I did, didn’t I?"

" _YAMAZAKI_! _WHAT THE FUCK_?"

Makoto groans and roughly rubs his hand across his face in dismay, “What is happening?!"

"Do you really need it to be repeated, Rin? _Again_? Because if you do, you might want to get your ears cleaned."

“ _Sousuke_!"

He sighs in disappointment, “I like it better when Makoto says my name like that… It makes me all…  _tingly_ ,” he shivers for effect.

Makoto sputters at the confession. Or teasing. It doesn't matter one way or the other because Makoto is none too amused that these...  _depraved miscreants_ have taken his stern!Makoto voice and twisted it into something... _wicked_.

“ _Sousuke_."  _Dammit_ , he winces and curses at himself for unintentionally perpetuating it.

Sousuke pulls up himself at that, sitting straighter and looking at Makoto with interest. "Ooo. Exactly like that.  _Tingly_. Do it again, Makoto. Say my name." The lilt in his voice deepens impossibly and his sleepy eyes droop further as his teal eyes gleam mischievously. Sousuke faintly hears Haru snarl in the background and grins delightfully at the way Makoto is looking at him all wide eyed and blushing furiously.

"O-O-O! Mako-chan, Mako-chan! Say my name like that! I wanna feel tingly!"

"What? No!"

Makoto hears someone—either Rin or Haru—shout _stop staring at Makoto like that, Yamazaki_! And out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sousuke smirk and lick his teeth as his eyes roams over his profile. He clearly knows Makoto can see him when he did it. Why is he friends with these people? All they do is tease him. It's not fair. One of these days, their teasing will backfire. Unfortunately, today's not that day.

"Aw. But why not?” Nagisa pouts childishly.

Haru sucks in a breath and calmly explains, “because you haven’t said anything to merit it."

"Oh, I get it! So if I say something like…" he taps his chin, making it seem like he was in deep contemplation, but he's not fooling _anyone_ as half the table waits with bated breath at the horror show that's about to tumble from the blonde's mouth. "Haru-chan... what does Mako-chan sound like when he comes?"

“ _Nagisa_!” Makoto outright **screeches** in abject horror but Nagisa merely squeals in delight, clapping his hands giddily and legs flailing.

"Nagisa-kun, this is so inappropriate!” Rei squeaks hurriedly. Makoto is glad that someone shares in his horror.

"Aw, you just feel left out that Mako-chan hasn’t said your name like that. Quick, Rei-chan, say something scandalous to get Mako-chan to say your name like that!"

"I will do no such thing!"

“But it'll be _beautiful_ if he does!” Rei refuses to look even remotely interested in his friend’s shenanigans.

“Fine!” He turns back to Makoto, "Mako-chan! Say Rei-chan’s name like that!"

“No!"

"Come on, Mako-chan! Don’t be such a party pooper!"

Rin’s patience finally breaks and he pounds his fist on the table, "Nagisa, stop your yammering! I’m trying to have a conversation here! Sou!"

"Rin."

...  
...  
...

“Well?"

"Well, what?"

He pinches the bridge of his nose and his brows furrow in a combination of irritation, frustration, and annoyance, “holy fucking shit, Sousuke! You’re just as difficult as Haru!"

"We are _nothing_ alike,” Haru gripes noisily.

"You’re damn right. I don’t smell like mackerel."

“… _That’s_ the best you can do?"

"Shut up, Mackerel Boy."

"Your insults are pathetic."

"Sousuke! Stop getting distracted! We need to talk about this!” He slams his fists on the table again, rattling the contents on the rickety table.

"And you want to do that in front of _everyone_?” He bolts to his feet and yanks Sousuke after him. 

"Aww! Come back!" Nagisa shouts at their retreating backs, "I want to hear how Sou-chan wants to suck you off!"

" _NAGISA_!"

"Sousuke wants to do _what_  to my brother?!?!"

Nagisa giggles manically.

They were definitely going to get kicked out... 

* * *

"Well, that was a slap and a tickle," Rin sighs heavily as he flops onto the couch next to Haru. 

"This is all your fault,” Haru quietly fumes. It was late and Rin’s house was the closest so it was quickly decided that they’d all sleep over.

Which wasn’t a problem. No, the problem was Makoto passed out before they even got on the train. Makoto, who is a giant of a human being. Sure, Haru’s put on some weight and muscle himself but Makoto still has  _at least_ nine kilos on him in addition to the eight centimeters. Haru’s strong but he’s not _that_ strong. Not-carry-76kg-of- _literal-_ dead-weight strong. Whereas other university students were busy putting on weight due to crappy food and copious amounts of beer, the ridiculous human being that is Tachibana Makoto put on three _kilograms_ of _pure muscle_ since high school. So that left Sousuke as the only viable candidate. But he wasn’t able to do that himself either. Well, he _could_ but he didn't _want_ to, Haru suspected; he gave some half-assed, lame excuse about his bum shoulder. So after several minutes of debating how best to get him to Rin's, they flanked on either side of him as they half carried, half dragged him to the house.

"Oh, come on! I didn't know they were all a bunch of lightweights!"

"Idiot."

"I'm sorry."  
...

"I said I'm sorry."

"I heard you.” He slinks down into his seat and fold his arms across his chest, “did everyone get to sleep okay?”

Rin follows suit. "Yeah. They knocked out pretty quickly."

Haru purses his lips, wondering if it's inappropriate to ask but then he remembers that he doesn't care about what is or isn't appropriate. Besides, they're friends. Most of the time.

“Are you okay?”

Rin laughs mirthlessly, "I didn't drink _that_ much."

"No, I mean..."

"What?”

Haru narrows his eyes at the red-head.

_Is Rin dense? Idiot._

“Sousuke said he wanted to suck your dick."

  
"Jesus, Haru!” A flabbergasted Rin hisses and Haru shakes his head to clear the ringing in his ears.

“Are you?”

Rin, still astounded, snaps in annoyance. "Am I _what_?” Haru’s left eye twitches testily.

_Oh. He really **is** dense. This fucking idiot._

"Going to let him suck you off."

"Fucking hell, Haru! You can't just ask questions like that!"

"Why not? You do."

“That’s...! That's different!"

"I fail to see how."

"You never say anything!"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I... I don't know!”  
Haru sucks his teeth peevishly, “it'll just make your face redder than your hair anyway."

"What? Shut up! You don't know that!"

"Makoto likes to have his nipples bitten,” he offers nonchalantly; like he was telling Rin what he had for breakfast.

“ _Jesus fucking Christ_ , Haru! What the fuck?! Don't tell me that!"

"See? Redder than your hair."

Rin scowls, “shut up." Rin turns away from Haru's inquisitive stare to study his chipped nails instead.

"So... Kyoto, huh?"

_Thank goodness_! _A safe, boring, non-blush-inducing topic_!

"Kyoto," he nods affirmatively. "To be honest, I'm a bit nervous."

Haru shrugs, unworried, “you'll be fine."

"I just... I can't believe how scattered we’re all gonna be, ya know?"

"It's won't be forever. Just a few years. It'll go by quickly. And at least we'll be in the same country."

"Easy for _you_ to say. You have Makoto with you. Hell, you'll get to see Sousuke more than I will. That is such bullshit." 

Haru nods, as if Rin had said something revelatory, "so you _do_ want him to suck your dick.”

And for the millionth time tonight, Rin squawks indignantly, "what?! I just meant that he's _my best friend_ , you idiot!"

Haru furrows his brows, not exactly understanding what the problem is. "Makoto's my best friend.”

_Oh gods, he is going to..._

"I let him suck my dick.”

_Yep. He is… **Idiot**!_

Rin can feel himself choking on air and he's pretty sure his face can now double as a space heater. " _Jesus fucking Christ_ , Haru! Don't tell me that!”

Exasperated, Haru rolls his eyes and grumbles, “you _always_ fish for details but when I offer it up, you don't want it. Make up your mind," he gripes grumpily.

"I really fucking hate you, Haru."

There's a quiet, brief, _tense_ silence before Haru says, "I'm glad you'll be in Japan."

Rin relaxes, breathing easier. "Yeah. Me too."

"And instead of an nine hour flight, it'll be much easier for whenever Sousuke wants to suck you off. Or whenever you want to suck him off."

Rin throws his hands in the air in defeat, "fuck you, Haru," he groans.

"Not interested. Only Makoto gets to do that."

_HOW THE FUCK IS HE DOING THIS? How is he saying these things with a straight face? And why am **I** the one whose face is on fire?!_

"Holy fucking shit! I'm going to bed."

"Are you going to cuddle with Sousuke?"

He throws a large cushion at Haru's head and snarls, " _SHUT UP, HARU_!"

* * *

"Makoto, wake up,” he shakes him impatiently. But only gets grunts and grumbles in response. "We’re meeting your parents for morning tea, remember?” Makoto just burrows himself deeper into the blanket. “Makoto!” He glares at the blanketed lump, "I told you you shouldn’t have taken that beer. I’m going to kill Rin." Haru shakes him some more. He even tries pinching him but nothing works. "Makoto… Come on. You don’t want us to be late do you?”

He rolls off the futon in a huff and when he returns, Makoto shoots up in a cold shock.

“Haru!"

"You wouldn’t wake up."

"That doesn’t mean you need to throw cold water on me! The futon’s soaked now!"

He shrugs carelessly, “it’s Rin's. Who cares."

“ _Haru_."

“That's the less sexy version of the tone."

He crosses arms over his chest and _tries_ to looks disinterested as Makoto peels his soaking wet t-shirt off. "Speaking of Rin... I may have said some things to him last night. ...He might not be able to look you in the eye for a while." Haru begins to get off the futon when Makoto's hand grips his wrist tightly.

"Wh-what did you say?"

He tries his best to look innocent. It’s not convincing. At all. "...Nothing."

“ _Haru!_ " Makoto whines and Haru rolls his eyes.

He throws a towel at Makoto's head, “get ready."

"With what? My shirt is soaked!"

"Find something. We need to leave if we’re going to meet your parents for tea."

"Oh, right. Morning tea."

"Yeah, morning tea. I want to get going. I want to make a good impression on your parents." Makoto blinks at him owlishly. "Yeah, I couldn’t say that with a straight face either," he says. _With a straight face_. He presses a chaste kiss on his pouting lips, "Hurry up."

Mrs. Tachibana waves at them enthusiastically, “good morning, Haruka-kun, Makoto!"

"Good morning, mom, dad, Ran, Ren,” he greets each of them with hugs and kisses.

“Morning, obasan, ojisan, Ran, Ren."

"Good morning, onii-chan, Haru nii-chan!"

Haru shakes his head at the morning greetings. Has it always been _this_ excessive?

Makoto, out of nowhere, grabs Haru's hand, lacing their fingers together and looks excitedly at his parents. "Mom, dad, I'd like for you to meet my boyfriend, Haru," he grins at the joke but Haru gapes at him, eyes widening comically.

He snatches his hand back and he grits, " _idiot_." Makoto pouts playfully at him. "We've been here for three days and you're only doing this _now_?" Just _once_ , he'll humor Makoto. (A lie. He humors Makoto quite a bit. More than quite a bit, really.)

The table laughs quietly and they shift around in their seats to get comfortable.  
Mr. Tachibana coughs the last remnants of his laughter and adjusts his glasses while asking his son, "that wasn't what you were wearing when you left last night, was it?"

Makoto plucks at his shirt, “oh, uh, no. It's Sousuke’s— a friend's. Mine got, um… ruined."

He doesn’t elaborate further so his mom prods, "did you two have a good night?"

Makoto nods happily, “yeah. It was nice seeing everyone again."

"Sorry we didn’t make back last night."

Mr. Tachibana waves him off, “nonsense. It’s fine. You’re here for two weeks, a night away isn’t a big deal. Besides, you’re 20 years old. It’s understandable."

"Not yet…"

"You're turning 20 this year,” his mom shrugs her shoulder, “close enough."

Makoto's father nods in agreement, "and Haruka-kun will be 20 in three months."

Haru pours tea for everyone. "Thank you for letting me stay with you, obasan, ojisan."

"Nonsense, Haruka-kun! Our home _is_ your home. You are always welcome. _Always_.” There’s a brief pause before she sternly tells him, “and the next time you thank me for something like that, I'll kick you out, understood?"

Haru nods shyly with a light blush on his face. Her warmth always seemed to have that effect on him.  
She notices the pinkness in his cheeks and, Haru thinks that she may be _the greatest human_ _being_ to **ever** human being, draws attention away from him before anyone else notices and thrusts it onto her unsuspecting son instead.

"Makoto... Were you drinking last night?"

"What? No! Of course not," he vehemently denies.

“Haruka-kun?” His mom doesn't even _look_ at Haru because she knows he'll tell her the truth.

"Yes." There's no way he's lying to her. Not after what she just did. Not after _everything_ she's _ever_ done for him.

"Haru!"

"I'm not lying to your parents. I need them to like me."

"They already like you, Haru-chan!” He whines with a pout.

"It's true," she nods, beaming lightheartedly at him, "we do."

"Well, I need them to continue to like me. And lay off the -chan."

"You're just still mad about last night."

Makoto's father arches an eyebrow at that, "oh? And what did you do last night, _son_?"

"Nothing!"

"Aside from the drinking," Haru grumbles not so quietly.

"Haru! You just want me to get in trouble."

"You're in college. You're an adult, Makoto. It's not like they can ground you."

"It's true," his parents shrug.

"Traitor," Makoto mutters, unsure of whom to aim it at. He looks over to find Haru blinking sweetly at him.

_I'll make it up to you. I promise._

But Makoto hmphs and turns away. Mrs. Tachibana chuckles at her son's behavior. "So, are there any special requests for tomorrow night? Besides mackerel, of course."

"No need. My parents will be fine. There’s no reason to go through all the trouble."

"We are having a feast, Haruka-kun. Having my son's boyfriend's parents over for dinner is a big deal," she teases.

"Not when you've known each other for almost two decades."

"You don't want to fight me on this, Haruka.”

Throughout the years, he’s learned that she means business when she drops the -kun so he nods in defeat. "Yes ma'am."

She suddenly stands and walks up behind them and wraps her arms around the two of them in a warm embrace, “I’m so happy for you boys. I love you,” she kisses Makoto’s temple. “And I love you,” she kisses Haru’s temple as well. “You two are so cute."

"What about us, mom?"

"Yeah, aren’t we cute too?"

She returns to her seat and ruffles the twins' hair, "Of course, you're cute. You two are the _cutest_."

"Now, what are you boys doing after this?" His mother asks while plucking a dumpling from the plate.

"Oh, I figure we just go home and relax for the day."

"You mean get over your hangover?"

"I am _not_ hungover!"

"Well, your father and I will be taking the twins to do some shopping for tomorrow's dinner so you'll have the house to yourselves." She brings the teacup up to her lips, smiling behind it, "do try to behave, okay?" Her words were innocent but the tone was anything but.

"Mom!" Makoto's eyes widen in shock and embarrassment.

"Or well, I guess, at least clean up after yourselves," she amended airily.

" _ **Mom**_!" He squeaks as various shades of pink and red bloom over his face and ears.

"I don't want _them_ ," she jerks her head subtly at the twins, "to find anything... _incriminating_."

He grips the table, knuckles turning white and dying of embarrassment at his mother's teasing words. "Dad! Please make her stop!"

"She has a point, son. I remember what it was like when I was your age."

Makoto buries his beet-red face into his hands, "this cannot be happening..." He looks pleadingly at Haru, "...help."

But Haru is at a total loss himself. Were Makoto's parents seriously teasing them about...  ** _sex_**? He reaches for the teacup, hoping against hope that they'd think the redness in his face is a product of the hot steam and _not_ because the Tachibana parents have decided that making jokes at the expense of their son's and their son's boyfriend's sex life was an appropriate subject matter during morning tea.

"Onii-chan, Haru nii-chan, what's wrong?”

"Are you feeling sick?"

"Mama, onii-chan and Haru-chan must be sick! They're so red!"

"We're not sick, Ran," Makoto mumbles while glaring at his mother.

"But Haru-chan look like he's about to throw up!"

"And how would you know what I look like when I'm about to throw up?"

"Because onii-chan looks like that too!"

Makoto's still red-faced but Haru reaches over and squeezes his knee, letting him know that he too is more than a little perturbed that his parents thought it would be humorous to make sport of their sex life. _During breakfast_. A quick peek and he notices Haru's lips quirk upward as he continues to argue with the twins about what he does and doesn't look like when he's about to throw up and all he can think is:

_Gods, I love him so much._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥ the Tachibanas.  
> Jesus fucking Christ, Sousuke... ♥ you.  
> I'm still dying-laughing.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you do the comment, and/or kudos thing during your stay! (✿ ♥‿♥)


	10. April

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... It's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry for the long delay! Things have been a little crazy and my brain is working overtime "plotting" this story, going through the motions for the next story, and I've been destroying brain cells trying to scrape together a presentation for work.  
> Also, I've been so, so, so, so, so obsessed with the Original Broadway Cast Recording of _Hamilton._ Like, it's a legitimate problem. I've been playing it Non-Stop! (heh, you get it? Wink-wink, nudge-nudge. Listen to the record. You'll get it.)  
>  As for the latest installment in The Adventures of MakoHaru, well, it's that time again because—surprise, surprise—my brain is but a vast and filthy wasteland.  
> (/°○°)/Warning.Warning.Warning.  
> There's going to be a lot of these in the foreseeable future.

When he walks in through the door, he finds Haru in their living room, sitting in front of a large canvas and wearing a white, raggedy t-shirt—currently doubling as a smock—that has been dirtied with various drippings and smatterings of dried, semi-dried, and fresh paint. He carefully places his bag next to the couch and approaches Haru from behind and drops a gentle kiss at the crown of his head. “Still working on that?”

Haru has been working on this for the past two weeks. This semester, he’s enrolled in an art class and this is his first assignment. Haru nods, “I'm almost done."

“But isn’t it due tomorrow?"

Haru shrugs, unconcerned, “I have time." 

Unconsciously, his thumb strokes the nape of his neck and murmurs quietly as to not disturb him, “you’re running out of blue and yellow, Haru-chan."

“Yeah,” he glances at the nearly empty tubes and sighs wistfully, "I like to use them to mix green. It’s okay. I’ll get some more after school tomorrow."

Makoto frowns in confusion, "but... you have green."

Haru's shoulders slump tiredly, "yeah but... I can't seem to get the right _shade_ of green when I use it. I've tried diluting it, increasing its concentration but it's still... _off_."

Makoto notices a bundle of discarded paints lying off to the side and picks up an unopened tube. His brow furrows in confusion. “...And why do you have body paint?"

“I had to get more paint the other day. I grabbed the wrong ones. They look like the watercolor tubes. I forgot to return them when I went again."

“Wait, wait, wait… so you just bought new paints and you’re _still_ running out?"

Haru finally tears his eyes away from the canvas and tilts his head, his large, disoriented eyes blinking hazily, “I said I like using them…” Makoto, finding no rebuttal, chuckles, offers a lazy smile and kisses him on the temple. 

Twirling his fingers in his soft hair, he asks, “do you want some tea?” But Haru shakes his head to decline, “I’m okay.”

Makoto puts the kettle on and when he returns, he pulls up a stool next to Haru, “hey, can I ask you something?” He waits for Haru’s nod and asks, “why do you use watercolor instead of oil or acrylic or something else?"

Haru stretches and rolls his shoulders, enjoying the slight burn in his muscles after sitting hunched over for so long before he answers. “Oil takes too long to dry. Acrylic dries _too_ fast. Plus, it's difficult to blend. Granted, watercolor is difficult to work with… a single drop of water and it could ruin the whole piece. But it's non-toxic.” Haru turns to look at Makoto with serious and grim eyes, because this is _the_ most important point that Makoto _must_ understand above all else. “And I will _not_ disrespect the water by using toxic paints."

Makoto chuckles in comprehension. _Oh, Haru-chan… I should have known_ … “Ah, so this all comes back to water."

"Of course."

Makoto turns his attention to Haru’s painting and tilts his head, “so… What's this assignment about anyway?"

“Hmm? Oh, I'm supposed to do an abstract work of a memory. So I'm painting what I saw during the relay. At Nationals."

Makoto does a double take— at both Haru and the painting. It's a striking cerulean blue canvas with flecks of gold that seemed to be fluttering towards brilliant intertwining swirls of cheerful shamrock and hearty plum along with a streak of flamingo pink and a flash of bold cobalt that all seems to be chasing a blinding light. Makoto is unsure of what he was actually looking at though.

But then Haru points to the prominent whirl of green and everything falls into place, "that's you."

Makoto stares at the painting. _Oh_ … So it's an abstract rendering of _**them**_ and it's rather simple looking. The beauty and complexity, however, came from the painstaking way Haru mixed the colors. How careful he was in blending them together flawlessly onto the canvas. It looked effortless but Makoto knew better. He watched Haru spend hours mixing and then _re_ -mixing paints when he didn't get the shade he wanted. He watched him as he spent hours meticulously overlaying each color on the canvas. Each stroke of the brush was carefully thought out and no movement was wasted.

"It's beautiful, Haru-chan."

He nods his head, pleased with Makoto's assessment, "I like it too."

Makoto swallows nervously, anxious of the answer he'll get from him. "So, you... you saw us when you swam that day?”

Haru blinks at him; his long, dark lashes fluttering in contrast to his pale skin while his eyes shine in confusion at the question. "I see you every time I swim, Makoto."

“You— _Haru_...”

Makoto feels the familiar heat creep across his face as the tips of his ears begin to burn. Not so much out of embarrassment but because Haru has the capacity to surprise him in a way that leaves him warm and breathless whenever he says unexpectedly—not to mention unintentionally—tender things like that.  
It's sweet.  
Haru is sweet.  
But he'll never say those words out loud because Haru is more liable to throw at pillow at him and tell him to shut up than fawn over being called _sweet_.  
Cute ( _I'm not cute._ _I'm not a [insert baby animal here]._ ) also falls under this umbrella. Which is a shame because Haru is cute almost _**all time time**_. 

"Your tea is ready," Haru snaps him out of his stupor.

He rushes to the kitchen to get the kettle off the electric plate and exhales noisily. He grips the counter and shakes his head to clear it because Haru makes him a little dizzy. Kind of like how one would feel when you get the flu. Just with less misery involved and much more pleasant because the dizziness also comes with a hefty helping of tingly-ness. And Haru has a habit of making him feel that way on a near daily basis. ...On an hourly basis truth be told.

“Are you okay?” Haru wanders in the kitchen shortly after.

Makoto nods reassuringly, "I'm fine. Just got a little hot is all."

Haru glances at the navy blue sweatshirt with his university's name obnoxiously emblazoned across his chest. It was the first thing Makoto bought when he started school— _it's like a souvenir!_ Haru tried explaining that that's not how souvenirs work but to no avail. Dork.

"You shouldn't wear that sweatshirt then, Makoto."

Makoto snorts in amusement. 

_That’s not the kind of hot I meant_...

Haru stares at Makoto's back. He cocks his head and watches how Makoto's muscles noticeably bunch and shift even under a thick layer of cotton. Or how his shoulders coil and flex when he puts the tea leaves back on the top shelf. Haru's fingers twitch in temptation—wanting to touch the powerful muscles, his tongue craving to taste them, teeth itching to bite. He sucks his lip between his teeth.

A plan quickly devised and he murmurs just loud enough for Makoto to hear. "Makoto."

"Hmm?" He turns around, his black and white cat mug cradled in his large hands as he blows at the steaming tea. His nose wrinkles happily at the fragrant steam wafting through the air.

"I think I know what I want to do with the body paint.” 

Makoto tilts his head questioningly, "Haru?"

He takes a step closer to him, his intense blue eyes shine widely with a striking clarity that nearly knocks Makoto off his feet. "Can I use your back as a canvas?” 

Makoto's warm green eyes grow bewildered at the question, “you want to...” he pauses to taste the words rolling off his tongue, “paint my back?”

“I'd like to. Can I?”

He smiles. It's an unusual but nonetheless interesting request, “if that’s what you want, Haru-chan.”

Haru plucks his teacup from his hands and leaves it on the counter top. Makoto frowns. He was going to drink that… But Haru clasps his hand within his own and drags him out of the kitchen, swiping a clean brush and the body paints along the way before pulling him toward the bedroom.

It takes a moment for his brain to catch up with Haru’s actions. “Wait, _now_ , Haru?"

" _Now_ ," he confirms.

“But… what about your project?” Makoto glances back at the unfinished painting.

"I can finish it later."

“Haru,” he goes for a reprimanding tone but comes off far too warm to be anything but adoring.

"It's fine. This is more important."

He laughs affectionately and in disbelief, “how?"

"Because I say so."

"I don't think your professor would agree."

"My professor will understand just fine. He's an ' _artist,_ '" he mutters and rolls his eyes sarcastically.

Makoto roars with a laugh, “that's not very nice. I hope you don't say that in front of him."

“Well, _duh_."

Once in their room, he lets go of Makoto’s hand and quickly turns to face him. "Take off your clothes."

Makoto flushes at the command, “Wh-what?"

“How do you expect me to paint your back?"

He shuffles his feet anxiously, “a-all of them?"

Haru tries for an indifferent shrug, “you don’t want to get paint on them, do you?" Makoto frowns so he huffs a put-upon sigh and concedes, "you can keep your boxers on if you're feeling modest. I prefer them off though."

The shuffling abruptly stops and he crosses his arms sternly, "I'm keeping them on."

Haru's lip twitches, a little disappointed at that, "that's fine." Haru sits on the bed, hands braced behind him to watch him strip.

“You—you're just gonna watch?” Makoto stutters incredulously.

"Problem?"

"A little!"

Haru frowns in confusion and points out, “it's nothing I haven't seen before."

"Haru! You can't always use that as a justification for staring! That's not the point!"

“Just... hurry up, Makoto." He huffs, exasperated with Haru's impatience.

Sufficiently annoyed, Makoto quickly pulls both his sweatshirt and undershirt over his head and kicks his jeans off. There's no seduction, no flirting, no teasing involved; just a detached, clinical removal of clothing. And then he's standing in the middle of their room in nothing but his adorable but gaudy, pumpkin-orange-and-royal-purple-checkered boxers. He notices Haru eyeing his crotch with a deep frown marring his face. He howls in laughter when he realizes _why_. Haru's head snaps up quickly and glares at him.

Makoto wipes a tear away, clutching at his sides. "I don't walk around with a permanent hard-on, Haru. How would I function?" Haru turns away with a huff, unappreciative of his laugh. Makoto approaches him slowly and takes his hand. Haru eyes snap back in surprise and, Makoto, keeping his eyes trained on Haru, pulls his boxers down just enough to free his flaccid cock and wraps Haru's cool fingers around his length. He sighs blissfully at the familiar touch and can already feel himself hardening in his hand, "there... Better?" 

Haru bites his lips as Makoto's cock stiffens under his watchful eyes and inquisitive hand. Panting, Makoto thrusts himself into Haru's loose fist and Haru is tempted to drop to his knees and take him in his mouth but he reluctantly pulls away. Makoto whimpers.

"I was going to paint your back," he murmurs. He watches Makoto swallow roughly.

"Right," he breathes, tucking himself back into his boxers.

Haru's noise of disapproval at the action is met with a chuckle. "Get on the bed. On your stomach," Haru grumbles. 

Makoto does as he's told, lying on his stomach and pillowing his head over his folded arms. Haru climbs over him and straddles his thighs. He shakes a tube of red paint and watches Makoto wiggle against the sheets; his muscles straining and stretching with each and every movement. And it takes every ounce of restraint for Haru to not touch or kiss or lick the taut, salty skin; for him not to nibble or bite his flexing muscles.

Haru clears his throat. "How was class?" Haru asks; not to make small talk or fill the silence but more so that he doesn't become distracted from the whole painting thing he's supposed to be doing.

"A bit more involved than I thought it would be."

"Is this the class you're taking with Sousuke?" Makoto nods. "Anatomy, right?" He nods again. "What are you learning?"

Makoto sighs, "we just started on the musculoskeletal system."

Haru leans over him, his chin resting at his shoulder, "can I help?" He forgets all about the tube of paint as it rolls off the bed.

_So much for not being distracted..._

His hands graze over the back of his neck, out to his shoulders then drifting his fingertips across his back. “This is the trapezius," he adopts a stern yet gentle tone. Like the one Makoto would use on the twins when he helped them with their homework. "And this," he presses a kiss just below his shoulder, "is the infraspinatus. It's one of four rotator cuff muscles."

"You seem to know quite a bit about this, Haru-chan..." Makoto observes breathlessly.

"Lay off the -chan," he retorts automatically. 

"And I'm training to be a professional athlete. Our trainers talk about it all the time. They're all about injury prevention and treating the entire body. They want to make sure we don't overextend one muscle that will pull our whole body out of balance. Like, did you know that a strain in your big toe can affect your butt muscles and hamstring? It's some new age type of sports medicine they're really into. ...Well, they _insist_ it's science but sports have been slow to adapt so..."

Makoto resettles himself and hums, “that sounds pretty interesting..."

"It is. I feel better than I did in high school. Less sore. Stronger too."

"That's... That's good." Makoto slurs drowsily. 

Haru nods against him, "they take measurements four times a week to assess our flexibility and stability. And they make us do these funny exercises... We look like idiots but it makes us use all our muscles and makes us engage in our core instead of overusing a handful. It also lets them evaluate whether or not an injury is imminent.” Haru fully drapes his body over Makoto, laying his head on his bicep that allows him to peer at his relaxed and gentle face, “like, the other day, Hiroki was favoring his right so one of our trainers did some tests and it turns out that he pulled a hip muscle playing pickup basketball. They caught it before his other muscles began to overwork and shut down."

Tanaka Hiroki is a year older and swims both the breast stroke and butterfly. He's also very excitable in a way that reminds him of Momo. Strangely, Haru gets along with him famously. Or well, Hiroki gets along with Haru famously while Haru merely tolerates it, which is a feat in itself. Hiroki always invites Haru (and occasionally, Makoto) out for lunch or dinner and sometimes, karaoke and no matter how often Haru declines, he always ends up allowing himself to be dragged along.

"That would have been useful in high school."

"Right?"

Makoto squirms against the bed, “so what happened Hiroki?"

"They've got a personalized plan for him to correct it. We all get individualized plans based on our bodies and needs."

"You seem rather interested in all this."

Haru shrugs even though Makoto can't see it. "I guess. It's just kind of crazy how the human body works. It's actually beautiful."

Makoto chuckles at the subdued enthusiasm. “I'm sure Rei would like hear all about it."

Haru offers a noncommittal shrug, "you and Yamazaki should come by during practice. I think you'd both be interested in it."

Makoto hums at the suggestion; it would be useful for them both, "I'll let Sousuke know. We're going to the pool tomorrow... It's been a while since either one of us got to swim."

Makoto suddenly releases an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak at the unexpected tickling lick over his ribs. Haru informs him that it's his lats, which he already knew. But he lets Haru educate him anyway. He seems to be enjoying taking the role of instructor.

"I thought... you were going to paint my back, Haru," Makoto stumbles out with his tongue stuck in his throat.

Haru murmurs, his mouth has moved on to lap at his spine, "I _am_ painting. This way is better."

_Well... can't argue with that._

Haru trails hot kisses up to the base of his neck while his hands smooths over the rivets and dips and ripples of his tense and flexing muscles.

It hasn't escaped Makoto's notice that Haru has been _very_ interested in his back lately. He'd spend _hours_ touching, kissing, and licking every square _millimeter_ of flesh when given the chance. He'd drag his teeth along his spine while his nose lightly skims along its curve. He'd reduce him to a wobbly mess and make him squirm and shiver and pant. He's not complaining though; the other day, Haru flicked his tongue into the dip at the base of his spine and thought he had been shocked, damn near _electrocuted_. He was left both tingling and numb long after Haru had moved onto another section of his back.

Currently, Haru is drifting slowly over his back; he seems to be nowhere and everywhere at once. Teeth grazing a shoulder, fingers kneading along his vertebrae, tongue swiping over his rib cage, fingers skimming over his flesh that leaves a scorching trail of goose bumps in its wake. And then he feels Haru's bare chest ( _when did he take off his shirt_?) pressed up against his back while he sucks at his supraspinatus, the _second_ of four rotator cuff muscles; a muscle that runs over the shoulder blades, if Haru is to be believed. It was then that Makoto realizes that Haru may actually go through **all** the muscles of his backside.

Makoto turns his head, breathing shakily, he murmurs, "Haru..." Haru drops light kisses on his shoulder, laps at his neck, and nips at his ear.

And then, for the first time since Makoto came home from class, they properly kiss. Haru tangles his fingers in Makoto's olive-brown hair, guiding and angling his head to deepen the kiss. Makoto groans at the sharp but pleasant stinging sensation of Haru tugging at his hair. Haru nips at Makoto's lips, rubs his tongue along Makoto’s teeth, and flicks at his canines. He moans when Haru curls his tongue around his own; sucking teasingly at him. Makoto wants to keep kissing him but Haru is pulling away, licking the corner of his mouth and kissing at the nape of his neck and down his back.

Haru suddenly sits up; the movement resulting in a groan as his crotch brushes against Makoto’s firm ass. He grinds against Makoto, rocking insistently against him. Makoto pushes his hips back at Haru and both groan and grunt at the _achingly_ pleasurable friction, muttering under their breaths at the hardness rutting at Makoto's backside.

“No… Haru, pl- _please_ … _Why_ …?” Makoto whimpers feebly when Haru pulls away.

Haru arches away from him, keeping his erection from contact with Makoto’s body. He rests his forehead against the middle of Makoto's back, breathing heavily in order to calm his racing pulse, “going to come if I keep doing that…" He grips the back of his boxers and tugs lightly, "Makoto. Can I take these off?"

"Fuck, yes. _Please_ ,” he rushes out.

His boxers disappear almost instantaneously. He hears Haru stripping out of his own clothes but before he can flip over to watch, Haru nips his Achilles. Makoto twitches involuntarily at the brushing touches of Haru's fingertips and feels him huff against one of his calves, _stop moving_. So he tries his best to keep still—to let Haru explore parts of his body that he _insists_ he hadn't yet. Letting his lips and tongue and fingers and nose and teeth drag and brush and graze over his burning skin.

He feels Haru's tongue lap at the dip at the back of his knees and Makoto half laughs and half moans. Makoto lets Haru slide his knee up, exposing his lower half to Haru’s exploration and heated gaze. He squirms restlessly and feels his cheeks flare. Even though he can't see Haru, he knows he's looking at him with ravenously; taking in every inch of skin, every hard line of his body, every sharp angle, and every motion. Makoto whimper at the knowledge; makes him hot with embarrassment and arousal and now his erection is beginning to hurt. The mattress offers some relief but what he really wants is to flip over and have Haru take him in his mouth.

"I'm not done yet," Haru murmurs fully aware of Makoto's predicament.

"But... Haru... My cock..." He pleads, hoping he can change his mind. Because if there's one thing that Haru enjoys more than worshiping his back, it's sucking his cock and he _really_ wants Haru to suck his cock.

And admittedly, Haru is _almost_ swayed with the prospect but instead chooses to continue his relentless sucks, licks, and kisses on his calves and thighs. Makoto sobs and whimpers and _begs_ to no avail. Haru determines that _this_ is Makoto's punishment for making him think twice about altering in his task. Haru's tongue paints random swirls on his thighs, inching up toward his ass. He stops at the crease where they meet and the flickering of his tongue is the only warning Makoto gets before Haru _bites_ him.

Makoto nearly jumps out of bed at the stinging teeth at his ass.

“ ** _Fuck_**! Haru!"

But then he's sighing in relief as Haru alleviates any remaining pain by kissing where he bit him. Continuing upward, he places an _absurdly_ chaste kiss—considering _where_ he's kissing—on each globe. He eyes the dark ring of skin surrounding his puckered hole with fascination and nudges his nose between his cheeks before a curious finger slips in between instead, brushing at his exposed entrance and causing Makoto to suck in a harsh breath. The finger slides up and down his cleft teasingly until Makoto groans and pushes his hips back against the questing digit.

"Makoto." He waits for Makoto to exhale noisily, letting Haru know that he heard him. “Is this okay?"

" _Yes_! Haruka, _please_. Please! Any... _anything_ you want.” 

Haru bites his lip, Makoto’s words inciting a ravenous heat that floods his veins. "That's an awfully dangerous thing to say, Makoto..."

His fingertip prods at the puckered hole but is met with resistance. Haru climbs off the bed, amidst protests from Makoto, and tells him to stay there and skids into their bathroom, nearly face planting when he slides on the bath rug. Haru tears through the cabinets for some kind of lubricant; the contents from the medicine cabinet tumbling carelessly into the sink.

_How do they not have lubricant_? _That's just... nonsensical_!

He hears Makoto whine for him impatiently and he’s getting rather impatient himself so he grabs the bottle of baby oil ( _and_   _why do they have baby oil?_ ) and rushes back to the bedroom.

"We need to get lubricant," he mutters when he returns to Makoto. 

"Oh. How... how do we not have lube?"

Haru shrugs haphazardly, “because we use our tongues."

" _Haru_!" The color on his face deepens. Which is ridiculous because _they've had their tongues in each other_. What is there to be embarrassed about?

Makoto simply leers, "and you've had _my_ _cock_ _in your mouth_."  _Ha. Take that_ , he smirks as he watches the apples of Haru's cheeks match the color on his own.

"Shut up," he mutters darkly before pushing Makoto back onto the bed, straddling him once again.

He flips the cap up and pours _far_ _too_ _much_ on his fingers but better too much than too little. His coated index finger slides between his cheeks and hovers over the clenching hole. He strokes his thighs, his muscles twitching under his touch.

"Okay?" Haru asks quietly. At Makoto's firm and throaty " _yes_ ," Haru slowly slips his finger into him. He stops once his first knuckle makes it past, letting a groaning Makoto to adjust and familiarize itself with the intrusion.

Makoto wincing causes Haru to pause and change tactics. Gently pulling his finger out, he climbs off him again and kisses the skin behind his ear.

"Get on your side,” Haru whispers against his skin and helps maneuver him on to his side.

He lies down next to him, pulling Makoto’s leg over his hip and slides his hand back around to his backside. He dips his index finger into his entrance, already finding him to be more relaxed in this position than before. Makoto pushes back, asking for more, Haru wiggles his finger, easing into him and pushing his second knuckle past the outer ring and when Makoto whimpers, he strokes chest and torso and slips the rest of the digit into him.

"H-aruka!" he gasps. He breathes heavily through his nose, rubbing his forehead against the pillow and fisting at the sheets under his palms; pulling them from their previously neatly tucked corners. He clenches around Haru with a groan. It's not _un_ comfortable per-se but there’s a pressure that is difficult to describe and even more difficult to ignore. " _Ha_ -ru," he chokes. Haru hasn't moved since he slid the entirety of his finger into him but he continues to stroke his chest reassuringly.

Haru withdraws his fingers halfway, "ready?"

"Ye-s," he pants.

Haru thrusts his finger slowly in and out of his tightness, groaning when Makoto clamps down around him. He leans into him, kissing his chin and shoulders as he murmurs soft words of praise and encouragement to which Makoto responds to enthusiastically with throaty moans and loud gasps. He bucks against Makoto—their stiff members brushing, sliding, and rubbing against the other. His middle finger prods at his eager asshole which is sucking the digit already trapped in him as deep as he can. At Makoto's groan of _Haruka_ and  _more_ , Haru eases the slick finger as slowly as he did earlier with his index. Rubbing his warm and increasingly softening walls, he twists his hand as much as he can and parts his fingers; opening him up for an additional digit. Makoto's incoherent keens ring in his ears. But Haru knows what the wordless cry meant:  _I'm going to come_.  
But he can't have that.  
At least not yet.

He pulls his fingers out of his ass with an outrageously loud and wet squelch and Makoto sobs wretchedly. Haru eases him onto his back and Makoto doesn't know whether to sigh in relief or cry at the loss of friction. He isn't given much time to contemplate it as Haru's fingers are thrusting back into him.  
_Three_ this time.  
Makoto's feet slide over the smooth sheets, his legs wantonly— _instinctively_ —falling open for Haru's inquisitive fingers. He pushes his hips down on Haru's hand, desperate to take him deeper. Whimpering and desperate for Haru to curb his curiosity and to reach the bundle of nerves they've only read about thus far.

Curious, Haru cautiously curls his fingers and he knows he's found **_it_**. Makoto chokes on a wail of surprise and Haru decides that Makoto is the picture of perfection (and he's an _artist_ so he should know); his body coils tightly—skin stretched taut over his bulging muscles as his eyes roll back, his head thrown against the pillow, his sandy hair in disarray from the thrashing, back arched off the mattress, and his cock weeping at the sensation. 

Haru licks his lips; sure that he's drooling at the sight. Makoto's close. Especially after locating and brushing at his prostate. So he maneuvers himself in position, straddling him so he can still reach behind him at Makoto's ass while rubbing his own erection against Makoto's cock.

_Thank goodness for long fingers and even longer arms_ , the thought passes idly. 

Haru doesn't take his eyes off his lover's face; at how he alternates from clenching his teeth to being slack jawed. The look of bliss that plays across his face leaves him breathless. Makoto is _beautiful_ like this; when he lets himself go. And beautiful isn't nearly strong enough of a word to describe him.  
When their relationship began—their _physical_ relationship—he assumed that Makoto would be reserved and shy. That Makoto would need some gentle coaxing to not hold himself back, and granted, there was some initial shyness but that quickly gave way to _this_ Makoto. The Makoto currently writhing under him.  
Hungry and eager.  
Willing and greedy.  
_Shamelessly_ begging Haru for more and not bothering to stop or even quiet his cries.

A string of _Haruka_ s spills from plush, swollen lips in hushed, breathy pleas as Makoto's hands greedily claw at Haru's hips—guiding his movements over him as he thrusts at him, trying to synchronize the slide of their cocks with the fingering of his ass but it's far too frenzied for such coordination. Within mere moments of Haru bending his fingers again— _grazing his prostate **again**_ —Makoto comes, choking on Haruka's name; his climax splashing white, creamy streaks across their chests and stomachs, as well as generously coating Haru's cock with the viscous spunk. A thoroughly debauched Makoto continues to mindlessly rock himself on Haru's fingers, riding out his orgasm. 

Eventually, Haru eases his fingers out and Makoto whimpers at no longer being stretched. He curls up beside a trembling Makoto with his ear against his beating heart and sighs contently. His cock is still throbbing painfully between his legs but he ignores it in favor of watching the pleasure on his face play out.  
Makoto finally regains his bearings and he notices that Haru is still hard.

"Haru... You didn't come."

"Don't worry about it," he murmurs lazily. 

Makoto weakly shifts and straddles him, "here," he murmurs against his lips before sliding down his vibrating body. "I'll clean you up." He laps at the still warm come that's pooled at his chest and stomach. He hazily hears Haru's gasps and moans but he concentrates on licking his boyfriend's lean torso clean instead. The flat of his tongue lashes at Haru's tight, hardened nipple; lapping at the come that clings teasingly there.

When he's satisfied with the job he's done, he moves to on to cleaning his cock. He gently slides his tongue along the engorged member, catching every last streak of come that coats his erection and balls. The dewy drops of come clinging to his wiry curls beckons him closer and upon tasting himself on his cock, Makoto moans around him in pleasure; relishing at the heady come-pre-come mixture coating Haru’s pulsing member and eliciting a rumbling groan from its owner. When he finishes with that task, Haru is trembling with need and pleading for Makoto to suck him off. 

Haru's hips arch off the bed as soon as Makoto's mouth engulfs him. Makoto grunts in surprise and pins his hips down after almost gagging two seconds ago. Makoto's head bobs up and down his turgid shaft, his mouth eagerly taking nearly his entire length with his nose brushing against the damp, dark, coarse curls. One of his hands kneads his thigh—throwing it over his shoulder—while the other strokes his hip. He pulls back slightly so he could curl and roll his tongue, flicking at the curved head. And as his tongue stiffens to probe at his slit, his finger simultaneously breaches his backside. Haru falls apart instantly—his howls rattle the walls, the clutched hands at his head yanks his hair painfully as Haru empties into Makoto's warm and inviting mouth. 

Haru slumps into the mattress, his limbs feeling heavy but pliant enough for Makoto as he lifts him off the bed, "let's get you into the bath, hm?"

Haru nods sleepily against his shoulder, "join me?"

He feels Makoto's chest shake with laughter, "tub's too small remember?"

Haru grumbles darkly, "stupid tub."

"Maybe we should think about finding a place with a bigger tub..." Makoto trails off.

"Can we?" Haru lifts his head with effort, his eyes shining brightly.

Makoto smiles tenderly and kisses his temple, "we'll talk about it some more tomorrow, okay?"

"You're the best, Makoto,” Haru murmurs, burrowing his face into his warm chest.

"And don't you forget it."

* * *

“ _Holy fucking crap on a unicycle,_ Tachibana... What the hell did you and Nanase get up to last night?”

He did _not_ like the sound of that. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Turn around," Sousuke says but doesn't actually wait for Makoto to do it himself as he grabs his shoulders and forcibly spins him around. “ _Shit_ , Makoto. Is Haru teething or something?”

Sousuke very quickly runs through the multitude of blemishes littering Makoto’s back: "Bite mark here,” he pokes Makoto’s left shoulder, "bite mark here,” a poke at one of his ribs, "I guess this is a hickey here,” poking at the space between his shoulder blades, “here,” a poke at his right hip, “oh! You've got one on each side here,” he pushes Makoto’s hair away from the nape of his neck, "hell, you even got one _here_ ," his toe prods at his left calf. "And _oh_!” He exclaims, hooking his finger under Makoto’s jammers and yanking it back.

Makoto yelps, his hands flying to the back of his jammers as the elastic snaps sharply at his ass and jumps away from Sousuke’s inspection, “hey! Get out of there!”

Sousuke smirks heartily, “got a real nice one on your ass,” he winks for good measure.

“Rude, Sousuke! So rude!”

Sousuke shrugs flippantly, “tell me, Makoto, you bite too?"

He groans, not wanting to let on how close Sousuke was to the truth. "You're terrible."

In the seven months of being with Haru, Makoto learned that Haru is a biter. This, he learned _very_ early in their relationship. And really, Makoto is no better. One bite mark or hickey fades and another quickly replaces it. So it's no surprise that his back receives the same treatment. 

...But after that first time at the pool—much to Makoto’s chagrin—Sousuke never misses an opportunity to point out the myriad of small (and large) blue, purple, and red marks scattered across his shoulders, ribs, and hips whenever they went to their school gym for some recreational swimming. 

Or really, _anytime_ there's a visible mark.

And every time he complains about it to Haru, he just smirks. As if he _purposely_ bites him and leaves noticeable hickeys for that very reason (accurate) and that he's proud of the marks he leaves on him (also accurate).

_Thanks, Haru_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what I'm doing anymore.  
> You know the drill.  
> See you next time!


	11. May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet tap dancing Hades. This was such a pain in the ass to write. (Phrasing! [Especially given the content!] Someone, not me, says). Am I done yet? Oh. No? Sigh. Back to work then…  
> Once again,  
> (/°○°)/Warning.Warning.Warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been over a month since I last updated? What have I been doing? 
> 
> Oh, right, looking 4 the purple banana 'til they put us in the truck.
> 
> LET'S GO!
> 
> Well, for the last two weeks anyway. Doesn't really account for the rest of my absence.

Haru steps away from the dining table, his eyes scanning over the large scroll of ivory parchment to make sure he didn’t miss anything or make any mistakes in his brush work. He flips his hair out of his eyes and nods in satisfaction. He slides himself up onto the table swinging his legs restlessly as he waits. He studies his boyfriend who is currently the _perfect_ picture of concentration—his hair hanging carelessly over his eyes, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth—as he completes the final stroke. He steps back and, like Haru did earlier, observes his work with a critical eye.

He frowns. “I ruined it.”

Haru glances over to Makoto's side of the canvas and it’s… not pretty. There are multiple patches of thick blobs of black ink from where he hesitated in his strokes—blobs that would otherwise bleed through the paper had he chosen a lighter weight class. The kanji progressively drifts to the left and while it starts off at a decent size, it shrinks as you read up and down, right to left.

“You didn’t ruin it."

“I did! Yours looks perfect. Mine looks likes a five year old did it!”

Haru looks at it again. It’s not _hideous_  but admittedly, it's not great. But he wouldn't go so far as saying it was _ruined_. "Ran and Ren will love it anyway. Their brother made it for them."

“They’ll be more happy to hear that _you_ made it.”

Haru shrugs casually, “only half."

“The nice half,” he mumbles with a pout, his plump lower lip jutting out childishly.

He shrugs again, “so you’re not artistically inclined. It’s not so bad. Besides, it’s the thought that counts."

“Should we do another one?”

Haru glares incredulously at him, “excuse me?"

He quickly waves his hands and explains, “not… not because I want to redo it. But because…” He scratches his cheek apologetically, "well, Ren and Ran are getting to the age where they don’t really wanna... _share_ things anymore."

Haru clicks his tongue dismissively, “Ren and Ran will be fine. They’ll have to share for at least one more year. We already spent three hours doing this—" they woke up _obnoxiously_ early to get ink and a variety of other supplies including, but not limited to, new brushes and a scroll of parchment—"I’m not spending another three. No matter how much I love them."

“Right. No. Of course not.”

Haru hooks his long, slender fingers around his belt loops and pulls him in between his legs, “it’s fine,” he murmurs breathily against his neck. "It’s from their brother.” Haru peers up at him, the fringe of his hair doing nothing to hide the coyness in his eyes as he trails his fingers up his bare forearm, shooting shivers through his body. "Their brother who didn't forget to wish them happy birthday and took the time out of his super busy school schedule to make them a birthday present. They’ll love it. No matter how crooked or messy it is."

Makoto weaves his fingers into the hem of Haru’s shirt, his calloused thumb stroking the smooth skin stretched across his sharp pelvis. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because that doesn't make me feel better.”

Haru helpfully pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and draws his head down for a kiss, his tongue flicking the corner of his mouth flirtatiously and then slipping in when his lips part for him. “Feel better now?” he murmurs into his mouth.

Despite Makoto trying his best, he's unable to stop the corner of his lip from twitching upward, “a bit. Could stand to feel even better though.”

Haru curls a leg around his waist and pulls him closer to him until their pelvises are flush against the other. “Oh,” he hums questioningly, “kind of… like _this_ better?" He nibbles Makoto’s bottom lip, his hands smoothing over his shoulders and down his spine. He slides his hands under his shirt, relishing at the way his muscles bunch and tense under his touch.

Makoto tips Haru’s head back and draws his mouth open with his thumb. He runs his tongue along Haru's gums and teeth before dipping fully into the opening and stroking the roof of his mouth and insides of his cheeks; wanting to taste every nook and cranny, every dip and curve, every corner and dark recess of his mouth.  
It never ceases to amaze him at how quickly they arouse each other. Just the simple act of kissing has his groin stirring in attention. And he knows Haru is as equally aroused judging from the increasingly throaty mewls echoing between his ears.  
Or the way he yanks on his clothes.  
Or the way he leans and bucks into his touch and body.  
Or the way he scratches at his board chest and shoulders. 

“Makoto,” Haru rumbles.  _I want you._

Makoto nods in agreement, “I want you too."

Haru shakes his head, pulls away just enough for Makoto to fully understand him as he clarifies, “no, Makoto… I _want_ you. I want to _feel_ you...  _All_ of you."

Makoto's brows shoot up, his eyes wide and full of surprise. “Oh! Ah...A-are you sure?” Haru nods firmly, the determination set in his eyes boring into him. “So you’re…" he swallows audibly before continuing, "you're ready?"

“I wouldn't have said anything if I weren't. The question is, are _you_ ready?"

Makoto nods his head, “I think so."

“You...” Haru pulls his lips in a tight line, his eyes narrowing in displeasure. "You _think_ so? This isn't the time to be wishy-washy. You either are or you aren't. I won't be upset if you're not. I'd wait. I'd always wait for you. So you _have_ to be sure, Makoto."

His eyes widen in a panic as he backtracks; he didn't mean to make it seem like he's unsure about them taking the next step in their relationship. “Oh! Right. You're right. Sorry! …sorry, force of habit. I mean, yes. Of course I am. I'm sure. I'm ready." He takes Haru's hand and squeezes it gently. He bites his lip bashfully and stares into the clear, blue eyes, "I want you too, Haru. I want you _everywhere_... Been wanting you everywhere."

Haru shoves their linked hands at his chest, “then why didn't you say anything?"

“I wanted to… but I just couldn’t seem to find the right words."

“ _You_ couldn’t find the right words?”

Makoto laughs a little breathlessly and shakes his head, “no matter how intimate we are, it’s still a little awkward, Haru.” 

Haru bites his lip; he supposes that’s a little true. In _normal_ society. But they’re Makoto and Haruka. It shouldn’t be too difficult to tell your best friend-slash-boyfriend that you're ready to have sex with him.

 _Oh._ He sees it now.  _Yeah, okay, fair enough._

"Just so you know, I would have waited for you too, Haru. For how ever long you needed. Because you’re worth it."

“Idiot,” a fetching shade of pink tints his cheeks, "…Now you don’t have to."

"And next time, I promise I'll find the words." Makoto kisses him chastely. "The bed will be more comfortable. And we'll need… uh, you know, lube..." 

Haru slides off the table and is immediately accosted with Makoto's lips on his mouth. They stumble away from the table but not before knocking over a chair and very nearly tripping over it. They make it across the room relatively unscathed but as they draw closer to their destination, they collide with a wall. Makoto grunts as Haru shoves him against it; his fingers digging into his biceps and shoulders. All the jostling knocks Makoto's glasses askew but they remain miraculously perched, albeit, precariously on his nose. Haru smirks at the muss presented to him and taps on the arm lightly and they fall back into place.

Makoto bends down the same time Haru rises up on his toes and he easily lifts the smaller man into his arms—Haru immediately wrapping his long legs around his hips. Haru rocks against him greedily, enjoying the feel of the unmistakable bulge forming against his ass.

Makoto momentarily stumbles at the lithe body grinding on his cock, his head thumping against the wall. " _Hah_ —fuck. _Haru_. …Want— _fuck_." Makoto pushes his shirt up, determined to get Haru as naked as possible as _soon_ as possible while Haru's hands fumble to wretch Makoto's slacks open. With Haru's shirt thrown somewhere across the room, Makoto pushes himself off the wall, carrying a wriggling Haru down the hall to their bedroom.

Once inside, Makoto lets him down to his feet and, immediately, Haru tugs impatiently at his shirt, pulling it up, and finally, with no more miracles left in it, his glasses snag on his shirt and clatter to the floor. Haru pouts in disappointment at the loss— Makoto is _extra_ delicious in them, but the disappointment doesn't linger as Makoto spins Haru around to kiss at the nape of his neck. He curls a possessive arm around his waist, pulling him to his chest.

Haru cocks his head to the side, giving Makoto full access to his neck. He rubs himself against Makoto, moaning when he plays with his erect nipple; rolling it between his fingers and tugging at it. His own hands meanwhile, reach back to Makoto's ass, sliding his hands under his trousers and pushing both it and his boxers past his hips. They slide off easily and he feels Makoto shift to kick them away.

While Makoto sucks on a patch of skin just behind his ear, Haru reluctantly pulls one of the hands kneading Makoto's rear away and brings it around so he can unbutton himself. He notices Haru struggling to do so one-handed and eagerly offers his assistance. Makoto gently plays (Haru would call it hinder) with the button before slipping it through the hole and sliding his zipper down. He slides his hand into jeans, his index finger tracing the hemmed ridge of the slit of his boxer briefs. He still gets delightfully surprised whenever he finds Haru _not_ wearing jammers underneath his clothes.  

 

Makoto nibbles at his neck as he helps Haru push his jeans down his legs. The denim rasps against his unusually hypersensitive skin. And then with both of them naked, the slide of Makoto's hard cock between Haru's legs intensifies. Makoto moans against his shoulder as his erection brushes Haru's scrotum and rubs at the juncture where his groin and thighs meet.

“Ha-Haruka," he gasps when his cock slides against the underside of Haru's shaft. Makoto reaches down to encircle their cocks with his hand and strokes them slowly. His other hand clutches at Haru's hip, pulling him back against him in tandem with his forward thrusts.

“Mako-to,” his low whine vibrates in his throat. Haru cranes his neck, intent on having Makoto's lips on his again and he happily complies. Haru's hand joins his and they jerk themselves leisurely until Makoto comes with a hoarse grunt.

Several lazy strokes later—waiting for Makoto to finish—Haru releases their shafts and brings his fingers to his mouth. He wraps his tongue and lips around it, sucking the bitter-tangy come off his digits. The hot breath from Makoto's gasps scorches the shell of Haru's ear.

"Haru," he moans his name. "Shit," he sags against Haru. He hadn't intended on coming so soon but Haru doesn't seem to mind as he moans around his fingers and pushes back at him.

"Let's get you in bed, hm?"

Haru pulls him to the bed, sitting him on it and then climbing into his lap. Makoto rubs his nose against Haru’s ear, “it'll be a while before I can—"

Haru cuts him off with a kiss before he can finish, “it's fine. We can just do this. I like kissing you."

Makoto grins bashfully, "I like kissing you too.” He nudges his nose with his own and nips at his upper lip with his hands kneading the lean thighs, massaging the streaks of come into his skin. “Or… You can start first if you prefer,” Makoto offers but Haru shakes his head, “I want to be selfish. Want you to spoil me.”

Makoto smiles, he enjoys spoiling Haru. He always has. Even when he knows he _shouldn't_ indulge him. He brushes Haru’s hair out of his face and rolls him over to his back. "Let's get you ready then."

Haru stops him though, “wait,” he clamors out bed, almost tripping when the sheets tangle around his ankles, “I’ll be right back.”

“Wait, what?” Makoto reaches for Haru but he slips from his fingers. "Where are you going?"

“I’ll be quick!"

“Haru…?”

Haru bites the inside of his lip and mumbles out in a rush, almost inarticulately, “justgoingtocleanup."

Makoto stutters, “o—oh… Uh, r—right..."

“Shut up,” he hisses as he flees to the bathroom. 

Five minutes later, Haru returns, crawling into the comfortable bed and curling around Makoto’s warm body. He notices Makoto biting his lip to refrain himself from, what he supposes, smirking. He glares at him, his eyes hard and lips stretched taut,  _ **not.** a. word_. Makoto grins and pulls him flush against him as they kiss for what feels like hours; slow, gentle, and teasing at first before they're aching and hungry for more. They push and pull at each other; greedily trying to crawl deeper in each others' mouths. Tongues and teeth colliding and clacking, tangling and twisting in an erotic dance. Hands and fingers pluck and pull, soothe and grope at the hard lines of the others' back, chest, arms, and legs; probing and lingering at nipples, shoulder blades, hips, and calves. 

Makoto reaches over to the nightstand and pulls out the half empty bottle of lube and frowns at it, “we're going to need to get a new one…"

“We should think about buying in bulk," Haru deadpans. 

“Haru! ...We're not _that_ bad…"

Haru eyes him incredulously, "Makoto, you're insatiable."

Makoto snorts, looking affronted at the accusation, “like _you’re_ one to talk!"

He shrugs casually, unlike _someone_ , he isn’t embarrassed. “I can’t help it. I like the way Makoto feels. How you make me feel."

Makoto's eyes widen comically as nonsensical sounds squeak from his mouth. The only coherent thing that either one of them could make out was a slightly pitchy and flabbergasted, "Haru..." 

Haru smirks at Makoto's flustered face, amused that even after all this, he can still say or do things that will revert him back into the blushing, stuttering, shy Tachibana Makoto he grew up with. "I like it when you look at me like that."

"How am I looking at you?"

Haru thinks briefly, blinking contemplatively and smirking when he’s found the perfect comparison. "Like a mackerel out of water."

Makoto does a double take, his eyes narrowing into thin slits, “did you just... compare me to a _fish_ , Haru?" Haru shrugs nonchalantly. Makoto sighs, squeezing a generous helping of lube on his fingers. He shakes his head, "at least compare me to my spirit animal, Haru.

"But orcas are majestic out of the water. Mackerels flop around uselessly,” he explains.

"You...!"

"You're so offended."

Makoto cocks his head, “wouldn't you be?!"

He purses his lips, "it's mackerel."

"For goodness sake, Haru..."

His eyes sparkle playfully, "I mean, I get it if I compared you to a sardine but, _oh_!" Haru yelps abruptly at the sudden intrusion in his ass. " _You_...!"

"You were talking too much. Comparing me to a mackerel and a sardine."

"I said _if_ I com _PAR_ ed you to a— a sardine," his voice hitches when Makoto bends his finger, his blunt nail scraping at his walls. "I didn't _ah_ -ac _TUally_ compare you to one."

"Hmm," Makoto murmurs, a little annoyed that Haru is still able to form coherent sentences despite having his finger buried in his ass. 

_That won't do at all_.

So he nibbles along Haru's neck, inching up to his ear and flicking the dangling flesh and then tugging on it with his teeth. When he feels Haru tremble and whine under him, he smirks. Sliding his free arm under Haru, he lifts his head to kiss him as he continues to finger him. Haru wiggles on the bed, trying to take his finger deeper while simultaneously trying to get him out.

"Haruka," Makoto rumbles and Haru struggles to swallow when Makoto's knee nudges his thigh. "Open up, Haruka.” Haru follows the voice as instructed and slides his feet over the sheets, parting his legs for Makoto to do whatever he wished. 

Makoto pulls his arm from under him and settles himself between Haru's thighs. He readjusts one of Haru's legs, bending at his knee so that his foot is flat against the mattress. The familiar heat begins to coil in his loins at the visual presented to him. And that's something he's learned about _himself_. 

Turns out, he's a _very_ visually oriented person. He can't say he's surprised though. He's _always_ observing and studying Haru—watching for subtle shifts in moods and paying attention to the tiniest of ticks. It's why he's able to 'read' Haru's mind. And then to watch him swim...  
So yeah, in retrospect, it makes perfect sense that he'd get turned on by simply _watching_ Haru.  
He watches in fascination as his finger disappears into Haru's eager hole.  
He watches at the way Haru twists and arches his body to take more of him.  
He watches the restlessness in Haru's legs as they try to leverage himself  _just_ _ **right**_.

Makoto coaxes his other leg to unfold and climbs over him. Straddling the svelte limb, he rubs his semi-hard cock against Haru's supple thigh. "Haruka,” his husky voice growls, "touch me." And then he watches as Haru moans and reach for his cock.  
…Watches his fingers wrap around his length.  
…Watches his hand stroke him to aching fullness. 

"Makoto," Haru whines impatiently, “mo— _more_." Haru forces his eyes open and aware of Makoto’s… _proclivities_ , he parts his legs as wide as he can—exposing his twitching cock and hole to Makoto's fervent stare.

"Haruka," he rumbles. Makoto leans down and slides his tongue into his gasping mouth. He thrusts into Haru's hand and prepares to slip a second finger into his shaking body. 

Haru groans at the additional digit worming into him. As usual, Makoto takes his time to make sure Haru is okay—that he's comfortable. But he also does it to _torture_ him—to slowly drive him insane. It's okay though because once his gets his hands on him, he'd pay him back in kind.  
Make _him_ cry and beg.  
Make _him_ wait until he's delirious.  
Because Haru likes spoiling Makoto too. But for now, he'll whine and murmur heated words and let Makoto ply his body in whatever fashion he pleases. Once Makoto's fingers are buried, Haru relaxes, letting Makoto push them in and out of him gently, unhurriedly. 

Makoto savors the way Haru tenses when he curls his fingers and relax when he unfurls them. He twists his wrist, his palm facing outward and spreads his fingers, grinding and scissoring them to stretch his lush walls. The groan rumbling from Haru's chest shakes his frame as he thrashes and rocks against his fingers. Makoto curses at Haru squeezing him unexpectedly when Makoto's fingers brush over his prostate. He shifts, nips at Haru's lips and eases himself out of Haru's hand.

He maneuvers himself until he's kneeling between Haru's thighs again and picks up the forgotten bottle of lube and re-coats the rest of his fingers with the slippery substance. He re-caps it and leaves it by Haru's hip for later. Makoto's tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth, curling upward as he concentrates on carefully easing a third digit into Haru's flushed and trembling body. He glances at Haru's dripping cock—dewy drops disappearing into the coarse curls of his groin and the belled head glistening as beads fresh pre-come threatens to gush out. It bobs menacingly at Makoto—hypnotizing him—and his hands and mouth itch to get him off but...  
His other hand strokes his chest, trailing over his ribs and thumbing at his nipples. He leans over him, replacing his thumb with his tongue, suckling at the tight bud and dragging his teeth over dusky peak all while Haru pants and gasps above him. His hand snakes down to grip Haru's erection, squeezing the base of his cock roughly.

"Don't come yet, Haruka. We're not ready yet."

He exhales noisily, “hurry up, Makoto."

Makoto squeezes him again, harder than before. " _Don't_ be so demanding and impatient. Or I'll stop."

"You wouldn't dare."

"You really want to test that theory?"

"Damn it,  _Makoto,_ " he practically snarls.

" _Don't_. Rush me," he counters.

"You-!" he starts but stops short when he feels Makoto's ring finger nudge his ass. 

Haru thanks all the gods in existence that Makoto lubed up that third finger because, _fuck_ , no matter how many times they do this, he's always just a bit tight and it always stings and it always feels like he's being stretched to the brim and he's left wondering how in the hell is he supposed to accommodate something more... _substantial_. 

As if reading his mind, Makoto pauses, "do you want to stop?"

"No! Keep," he swallows roughly, "keep going. I'm fine. I swear."

"We don't have to do this now, Haru."

“I… I want to. I just... Just need a moment."

Makoto murmurs and leans over him, brushing his lips against his chin, cheeks, nose, and finally, his lips. "But you're worried about how I'll fit."

"Well, who wouldn’t? …You’re _huge_.” Makoto’s denial is muffled when Haru nips at Makoto's bottom lip, tugging it gently. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you fit."

Makoto chokes on a laugh, “Haru... How can you say things like that with a straight face?"

"Twenty years of practice."

"These are hardly things you've said in your 20 years of existence." Haru simply shrugs and offers no further explanations.

Makoto worries his lips with his teeth, "I have a feeling that this isn’t going to go the way we've envisioned..."

"That's fine.” He tangles his fingers with Makoto’s, “as long as I'm with you, it'll be exactly how I've envisioned it."

"Haru..." Even now, like this, Haru never ceases to surprise him. He smiles fondly and shakes his head to clear it. "It's going to hurt."

"I don't mind. I'm with you. As long as Makoto is with me, I'll be fine."

Makoto, overwhelmed with emotion, grazes his lips against him, kissing him with tenderness he didn’t think was possible amidst the intensity of their coupling. "Haruka…” he inhales deeply and his eyes flutter shut; his long lashes brushing against Haru’s cheeks, “you have no idea what you do to me."

"I have some idea,” his eyes sparkle cheekily and clenches around him, "I'm good now if you want to," his eyes dart down, "continue."

He flexes his fingers sending a jolt through Haru's body and Makoto stares at the sight writhing beneath him. In the face of Haru's indescribable beauty, he's rendered speechless— _breathless,_ really. His normally smooth, pale cheeks, neck, and chest becomes flushed in a wonderfully delightful shade of pink from arousal and exertion.  
His dark, inky hair tangled from his fingers.  
His blue eyes dilate and darken until they're nearly black.  
His lips red and puffy from their playful and aggressive kissing and biting.

“Let’s take it slow, okay? No need to rush… Just take our time.”

Haru nods in agreement, “yeah, I like that plan.” He exhales heavily, his warm breath fanning across his lips and cheeks. “Just… don’t stop touching me, okay?”

Makoto snorts—smiling and shaking his head in amusement. “As if you even have to ask that of me. I always want to touch you, Haruka. There isn’t a part of you that I don’t want to touch."

Makoto sucks Haru's bottom lip into his mouth the same time he plunges the rest of his finger into him, earning a growling _fuck_ from Haru. He thrusts into him agonizingly slow, curling and twisting and uncurling his fingers one at a time. Stretching and massaging the tight channel as much as he can until Haru is slick with sweat and shaking in his arms and pleading for him. Makoto strokes his thighs and hips soothingly.

"Makoto... Please."

Makoto reaches into the drawer again, box of condoms on hand and, once again, sits back on his heels. He drops the box in favor of picking up the bottle of lube and flicks the lid up with his thumb all while not once faltering in his manipulations.

“Haruka,” he murmurs and Haru’s eyes slowly flutter open, “I’m going to need your help.” 

Haru pants in exhaustion but takes the bottle in one hand as Makoto pulls him up with his other. He winces as he sits up, Makoto’s fingers and hand wedged under him. "Shit, Makoto. You could have taken your fingers out first," he grumbles.

"But then I wouldn't have needed your help. And I wouldn't be able to do this..." He bends his fingers, rubbing his inner walls and grazing at his prostate repeatedly.

Haru pitches forward, leaning heavily onto Makoto. "Ah! _Fuck_ , ha- _Makoto_."

Makoto lightly nudges him, "Haruka."

"Hmm?" Haru lazily rides his hand as Makoto suckles at his neck.

"I need your help, remember?"

The fog clouding his head clears somewhat. "Right. …Help,” he licks his dry lips, “with the... the lube."

Makoto chuckles at Haru missing a step and nudges at him again, "condom, Haru." Haru  peels his eyes open and finds the box but instead of taking a foil packet out, he carelessly throws it to the floor. "Haru!"

"Don't want it."

"But we—"

"Don't need it," they've discussed it briefly and, yes, it's not _needed_ considering this is new to both of them but it makes clean up a heck of a lot easier. "I want to feel you. Besides, it's not like we need to worry about pregnancy or infections or whatever."

"Oh, that's real sexy..."

Haru remembers the bottle that's clutched tightly in his hands so he distracts Makoto from further protests; shakily squeezing a generous amount onto his cock, coating it completely and then tossing it aside.

Makoto sighs, giving up his complaints, "come here," Makoto beckons him even as he curls his arm around Haru waist and guides him into his lap. 

Haru bites his lip to stop a moan from escaping so Makoto rubs his thumb across his lip, soothing his red, puffy lips with gentle strokes. “Thought maybe you'd like to choose. Like this or—"

"Can we do this next time?" He interrupts. “I… I want to feel you on top of me… I want your weight on me," he murmurs quietly.

Makoto smiles at the request—he likes that too—and lifts him up easily and lays him back onto the bed, "like this it is," he whispers against his lips as he slowly withdraws his fingers from him. Makoto watches as several drops of lube leak from his stretched opening; dripping onto the sheets and suddenly, he's glad Haru tossed the condoms—enthralled with the thought of Haru soaking the sheets with _his_ spunk after being completely and utterly filled by him. His cock twitches erratically at the prospect.

Haru whines at the loss of pressure but Makoto rubs his blunt, wet cock at him and Haru rocks against him. Makoto lines himself up with Haru’s entrance and Haru involuntarily tenses as Makoto's cockhead presses against him. He forces himself to breathe and relax but still can't stop the painful whine from escaping when Makoto finally breaches him. Makoto brushes his lips across Haru's, murmuring reassurances that he's here, that it's okay, and that he's not going anywhere. 

Makoto moves agonizingly slow, wanting to minimize the pain but also not wanting to spill himself before being fully seated. He stops once his cockhead pushes past the tight outer ring to let them both adjust to the new sensations, stroking his hips and thighs to relax him. It isn't long until Makoto lightly thrusts at him, inching more and more of his cock into Haru's impossibly hot, tight warmth. 

"Mako—to. Ha—..." Haru spasms around him, pulling a whimper from Makoto and sucking him deeper.

"So... so hot, Haru. You're so tight. _Hah,_ Haruka..."

The slide into him isn't as smooth as he imagined—not with how fucking tight Haru is—and it feels like half the time, he's trying to take him deeper while the other half, is trying to expel him. And the slight left-upward curve of his cock _**scraping**_  his lush walls as he slides deeper into him makes both he and Haru whine and pant and pause. 

But when his cock is  _finally_ buried, his heavy sac pressed against Haru's ass, he heaves a heavy breath that he'd been holding. Resting his forehead on Haru's shoulder and panting for breath, Makoto peppers Haru's face and shoulders and chest with gentle kisses. His muscles strain and coil as he restrains himself from thrusting into the tight, warm body trembling under him before Haru's ready.

“Breathe, Haru… Breathe,” he murmurs to himself as much as he reminds Haru. Makoto shifts his weight—not wanting to crush Haru—but the movement sends shivers down his spine. "Let, oh,  _fuck_... Lemme know... when you're ready," he murmurs in a husky, rich timbre.  

Haru _tries_ to catch his breath as Makoto suggested; his head swims in a hazy and painful fog as he tries to remember _how_ to work his limbs.  
And how to speak.  
And how to _breathe_. When he eventually figures it out, Haru curls his legs over Makoto's hips, locking his ankles at the small of his back and rocks against him. He whimpers as the burning sensation intensifies as every movement stretches him further, opening him up wider and wider until he swears he's either going to burn up or split open.  
A simple " _Makoto_ ” and gentle squeeze is all that's needed for Makoto to move against him, thrusting slowly and shallowly, rolling his hips in gentle waves. 

Makoto kisses the side of his neck as he continues to ease in and out of him, biting the inside of his cheek. "How... How does it feel, Haru?"

"I... Ah, good. So good, Makoto. So, h _a_ \- _Big_."

Makoto falters at that, jerking powerfully, "H-Haru!"

Haru's eyes flutter open, half-lidded and drowsy, "well it's true." Makoto surges against him, taking his lips into his and stealing his breath. 

Words suddenly lose all semblance of coherent thought; replaced with deep moans and harsh grunts and chants of each others' names as they gently push and pull at each other. Their open mouths hover over each other, their hot breaths brushing and panting across their dry, parched lips.

Makoto grips the back of one of Haru's thighs, draping it over his arm as he slides into him; each stroke  _deeper_  than the last. “Fuck. Haru. Ha-H _aru_ ka. You’re so _tight_. Haruka… You feel so... _amazing_ , Haru."

Haru’s whine rattles around in his throat, “ _more_... So hot. Makoto. So... deep...  _Ha_ , _Ma_ ko _to_."

Haru's hands drift across his back until one slides along his arm, lacing and clasping their hands tightly together while the other grips his ass, fingers digging into his flesh, leaving finger shaped marks and urging Makoto even deeper. The slap and slide of their sweaty bodies steadily picks up pace, the heat and coiling tension mounting until it grows to be too much. 

"I... 'm not gonna last... I need you to come, Haruka," Makoto coos in his ear. Makoto reluctantly releases his thigh but Haru tries his best to keep there because, _fuck_ , the burn is _just_ right. So Haru wraps his leg high around his back and Makoto's hand drifts to his ass, pulling him onto his cock in time with his thrusts. Haru babbles mindlessly; toes curling, head thrown against the pillow, his wet cock trapped and rubbing against their stomachs and searching for release when...

Suddenly the curve of Makoto's cockhead grinds him _just_ right, causing his body to arch off the bed completely, making him wail unevenly, “T- ** _THERE_**! Hah, Makoto… Makoto, ah-again, hah, right… _there_!” and explodes all over their chests and stomachs when Makoto rubs against his prostate again.

And Makoto gasps when Haru clamps down around him— _squeezing_ him mercilessly in a vice-like grip—unable to pull out even if he wants to.  
Which he doesn't. Because that would be stupid.  
But when Haru's walls flutter around him, he withdraws almost completely before jerking back into him. And in one, two, _three_ hard, shallow strokes, the heat coiling at the pit of his stomach erupts and Haruka's name rips from his throat as he comes, filling Haru to the brim. 

Strained muscles unwind, arms give out, and Makoto collapses on top of Haru. After several moments, Makoto realizes that Haru has been stroking his hair gently. He collects himself and remembers where he is and slides off Haru; pulling his softening cock out with a low groan and flops onto his back.

"That... That was amazing."  Makoto hums in agreement. "I can't move. I think you broke me," Haru wheezes unsteadily. Haru arches his back trying to un-stick his sweaty back from the sheets.

Makoto chuckles, "I can say the same of you." Makoto quickly pecks his lips, "don't go anywhere."

Haru grunts tiredly, "I just said I can't move. Where would I go?"

"Oh, shut up," Makoto mutters lightly.  

Makoto returns five minutes later with a warm towel—after having obviously cleaned himself up—and proceeds to gently wipe Haru down. Haru lies still, trying to stay awake and allowing Makoto clean him up while sighing contently at every tender swipe of the towel. This is just another way in which Makoto spoils Haru.  
Haru lets him maneuver and readjust his body until he's properly satisfied with the clean up he's done. Setting the towel to the side, he climbs back into bed, drawing Haru to his side and curling against one another. 

"Nap?"

"Nap."

"But when we wake up, we should do this again."

"Best sleep now then," Makoto mumbles sleepily as his eyelids drift shut.

"Night, Makoto,” Haru mumbles back. It’s only when hears a quiet murmur that Haru lets his eyes flutter close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not an easy chapter to write. For the longest time, I absolutely hated it. Loathed and despised it. It became a chore. I love the first half (because flirterers!) but then the second half of it got away from me and it was such a struggle to get to the finish line. It legitimately pissed me off that I just could not get through this chapter. There was just something missing and I still can't tell you what it is because I haven't figured it out but I kept typing nonsense crap trying to find something that worked, something to salvage it and I still don't know what did it, but I don't hate this chapter anymore. It's still not my favorite (mostly because of the struggle; objectively, I suppose it's a pretty good chapter) but at least it doesn't make me want to toss my laptop in a fit of rage.  
> That would be bad.  
> My laptop is expensive. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and for all the kudos and comments! It's much appreciated!
> 
> Also, please tell me you understood my note at the beginning. Or I'll be severely disappointed.


	12. Your Turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post this as an addendum but then I went, "nah."  
> This came about because I'm a depraved degenerate.  
> Obviously.  
> (/°○°)/Warning.Warning.Warning.
> 
> This picks up immediately where we left them last.

He wakes up first—seemingly shifted into being the bigger spoon over the course of their nap—his face smooshed comfortably between his shoulder blades. He squeezes his middle, throwing his leg and curling it over his hip and rubbing and burying his face further into his warmth.  
Makoto has always generated an excess amount of heat even as he complains about the cold. So Makoto has always been his own personal furnace. It's why he always forgets to grab a scarf or gloves.  
Which was okay in Iwatobi since they were basically attached at the hip but here in Toyko, where they had different commutes, Haru has, on more than one occasion, cursed himself for forgetting such things. Even though he gripes over it and tells Makoto to leave it alone. It was just another thing he took for granted.  
Another thing that made him miss Makoto immensely.  
Another thing that made him realize how much he...

Makoto stirs in his arms, smacking his lips noisily and murmuring something about a... mermaid? Merman. Mer-something. He didn't like that. He shouldn't be dreaming about merpeople. It's rude to dream about merpeople when your boyfriend is sleeping _right next to you_.

"What if the merperson I'm dreaming about _is_ my boyfriend?"

 _Oh_. _I must have grumbled that out loud_.

"You dreamt about me being a merperson?"

"I did. I can't remember much of it anymore but it was...nice."

"Hmm," he kisses the space between his shoulder blades, "I've dreamed of me being a merperson too."

Makoto's melodic laugh fills the room, "I'm not surprised. I bet you'd be an excellent merman."

He hugs him tighter and burrows into him, “what did mer-me do in your dream?"

"Oh. Uh, well, ha-ha-ha."

_Makoto's stilted laugh was hint one number one that his dream wasn't an ordinary dream._

"Mer-you didn't do much... Just, you know, regular... merperson... stuff."  

_Hint two: Makoto trying and failing to say anything substantial._

Haru pushes himself up and peers over Makoto's shoulder to get a clear look of his face. "Makoto. Was dream mer-me a sex dream?"

His face quickly glows red and hunching his shoulders, he sinks into the bed, "...maybe."

Haru shifts and rolls Makoto onto his back, "how would that work? I mean, a mer-tail isn't a costume… They're not exactly a tear-away pants. How does merpeople genitalia even work?"

Makoto’s face brightens further at the question, the unusual shade of red standing out against the sheets. "I don't know! Do I look like I'm an expert on merpeople sex?!"

" _You're_ the one that dreamt about it."

"You... you didn't have a tail by then,” he mumbles quietly.

“Makoto,” his eyes narrow and his head tilts, "...Did you Little Mermaid me? Because you know I _don't_ like that movie."

_Oh… Oh, no. Is he going to..._

"Why would you want to leave the _**ocean**_?"

_Yep. He is. The Little Mermaid rant._

Makoto has heard this rant a _thousand and one times_ over the course of their nearly two decades long friendship. "Why would _anyone_ want to leave the ocean, Makoto? It's... _blasphemous_. And not only leave the ocean but leave it for... some _**guy**_ she saw for literally _five_ _seconds_? She _has_ to have brain damage. That's the _only_ thing that makes sense."

Makoto sighs. He shouldn't have admitted that it was a mer-Haru sex dream. He should have just said _oh, it was just me and mer-you swimming around in the ocean. You know, no big deal.  
_

"I didn't _Little Mermaid_ you. It was more of a _Splash_ type deal than a _Little Mermaid_ one. So you _definitely_ didn't get Little Mermaid'd. I wouldn't do that."

_Because I know you'd be weird about it._

"I'm not being weird about it."

 _Dammit_.

" _The Little Mermaid_ is dumb. She brought shame to all the merpeople and the mer-kingdom. ...The songs are catchy though,” he begrudgingly admits.

"She wasn't dumb. She was just in love."

He scoffs with derision, "is that supposed to make things better? She put her life, the lives of her _family_ and _friends_ in danger. For a _boy_. A boy she didn't even know. He could have been an axe-wielding psychopath."

"She's supposed to be, like, 16! Sixteen-year-olds do stupid things!"

"That's no excuse."

"It's not," Makoto agrees. "Merely a reason. Besides, she was always fascinated with the surface world. It wasn't _just_ because of him." Haru eyes in disbelief— _don't bullshit me_ —so he amends, "Okay, _a lot_ of it was because of him but I mean, _Part of Your World_! She just wanted to know what it's like!"

"I'm not buying what you're selling. And neither are you. I don't know even know why you're defending it."

Makoto doesn't either. He doesn't even **like** _The Little Mermaid_! But here he is… playing Devil's advocate like an idiot.

"Ursula's contract specifies blah, blah, kiss, blah, blah."

"Okay, yeah, you got me there."

He sighs. He _really_ shouldn't have tried to defend it and should have just let Haru get it out of his system. So to steer him away from the topic, he pulls him down for a kiss and when he returns it, he knows that Haru has already forgotten about _The Little Mermaid_ tirade.

"I'm hungry," he mutters when Haru pulls away to breathe.

Haru arches an eyebrow, smirking all the while. "See? Insatiable."

Makoto bursts out laughing, clutching at his hurting sides, "no! Not that! Well, I mean, yes, that too, because, _duh_. But I really _am_ hungry. For _food_." A timely rumble interrupts them. "See?? Hungry! How long have we been asleep?"

Haru twists to look at the clock, "almost three hours."

"No wonder. We missed lunch too."

The bed sheets and blanket rustle, "I'll start on dinner. ...Early dinner. I think we have chicken and lemongrass."

"You're... not making mackerel?"

"We ran out. I need to get some more.” He shrugs, “it's fine. We'll have chicken instead."

"Are you... feeling all right?"

Haru rolls his eyes and sighs at Makoto, "I _do_ eat other things besides mackerel, Makoto."

"And why do you have lemongrass?"

Haru shrugs and rolls to his feet, "I went out with the team for lunch the other day,” he pointedly ignores Makoto’s _aw, you hung out with your friends_! and continues, "and I had this lemongrass pork chop dish that was pretty good. I thought I'd get some and try to replicate it... see how it'll go with fish."

"So you haven't actually tried making it yet?"

"Nope. You get to be my guinea pig. Lucky you."

Makoto crawls out of bed too, "I'll help."

Haru eyes him wearily and declines, “uh... No. It's okay."

"But I want to.” He turns the big, green, sad eyes on and Haru sighs, succumbing easily to his affectations, "fine. Just... Don't chop off your fingers."

"Don't say things like that, Haru-chan!" He ignores him and continues in a nonchalant/carefree/airy-yet-somehow-husky voice, "I _really_ like your fingers."

"Haru!" The tips of his ears start to burn but Haru doesn't hear him as he's already down the hall.

Makoto quickly chases after him, trailing behind and notices that Haru's walking a bit... gingerly. "You're limping... Are you okay, Haru?"

Haru whips his head around and shoots him an incredulous look, "are you serious? You _fucked_ me in the ass with your giant cock not three hours ago. Of course I'm limping."

“There’s no need to be so crude..." Makoto winces.

"We're not children, Makoto. If you can't _say it_ , you shouldn't be participating in it."

"The problem isn't _saying_ it. I can say it just fine! I want _you_ ," he points to Haru, "to fuck _me_ ," he points to himself. "See? No problem in saying it. It's the way you said it. It's _how_ you said it. It's the  _tone_!"

Haru rolls his eyes and stretches his arms over his head, twisting his body and trying to work out the kinks in his back and shoulders. "Thank every god ever created that tomorrow is an off day. My coach and trainers would blow a gasket if I showed up to practice like this."

“We have the long weekend to recuperate."

" _Don't_ get any ideas."

"Too late," he grins toothily, "I have a lot."

" _Insatiable_ ," he mumbles under his breath but loud enough for Makoto to hear.

Haru hums in amusement and turns on his heels to resume his trek to the kitchen, pulling his apron on.

"Wait, Haru! You're not wearing anything!"

He smooths the front of his apron with a flourish, “apron.” As if  _that_ answered anything.

"It's dangerous to cook naked!"

"I've always cooked in my jammers. What's the difference?"

"There's a big difference, Haru!"

"I don't se-" his eyes drifts down, "oh. _That's_ the difference."

Makoto follows his eyes and realizes that he followed Haru to the kitchen naked. And worse, he's  _hard_. "Shit," he mutters under his breath.

He's about to head back to the bedroom and put _something_ on but he finds Haru in front of him, on his knees, his lips stretched around his thick cock. One hand slams down on the counter, holding himself up while the other cradles the back of Haru's head.

He swallows hard, "who...who's the insatiable one now?"

Haru says something; it's unintelligible, what with him having a mouthful of cock, but Makoto is able to decipher it anyway: _still you_.

" _Fuck_ ," his knees nearly buckle and he curses at the vibrations caused by Haru's attempt at speaking. "You shouldn’t—  _oh,fuck_! ...Shouldn't talk with your mouth full, Haruka. It's... It's rude,” he reprimands. Haru looks up and rolls his eyes but Makoto swears he's smirking at him. Or trying to anyway because, again, _mouthful of cock_.

Makoto whimpers at the hot, wet tongue probing at his leaking slit and tunnels his fingers deeper into his hair. Haru moans around him; aroused at the way Makoto pulls his hair roughly, tilting his head back and lightly thrusting into his throat. Haru slides one of his hands up to grope at his hard pecs; blunt nails biting into his slick chest, pinching and plucking his erect nipples. His muscles bunch under his touch, tightening and straining and it is absolutely outrageous how stacked he is.

Above, Makoto grunts as he rocks back on his heels, his fingers biting into Haru's scalp as he guides Haru to take him deeper; wanting to sink into his mouth until his nose is buried in his dampened curls and his lips are wrapped tightly around the base of his cock. Haru's other hand leaves his hip to stroke and caress his thighs and ass. Makoto instinctively clenches at Haru's probing finger circling the rim of his asshole. But instead of sliding his finger into him, Haru slides his hand between his own legs; brushing past his balls and swiping the creamy come drizzling out of his ass.

He first noticed that he still had some of Makoto's spunk trapped in him when he stretched; felt a thin line of warm come trickling down his thigh. He slips his finger into his own ass, moaning at being stretched again. He's tempted to just finger himself while sucking Makoto off but there's a reason for his hand and fingers being where they are. He slides another finger in and spreads them apart, opening himself up and letting Makoto's come drip and coat the rest of his fingers. Once deemed sufficiently lubricated, he brings his hand back to tease Makoto's asshole, his other hand abandoning Makoto's broad chest to pull his ass cheeks apart.  
A finger slips into the exposed opening.  
Then two.  
Then three are buried deep into his gasping channel.

Makoto gasps and babbles from above, at having his cock buried in the wet, tight heat and at having his ass stretched and stuffed with Haru's long, slender fingers. “Haru… Haruka. Oh, _fuck_! So good... Love your mouth. Love your..." He swallows roughly, "fingers. _Fuck_. Fuck, _Haruka_  ...just like... Like that." He gasps at Haru curling and uncurling his fingers, at Haru swallowing around him, and at Haru grazing his prostate.

Makoto comes with a shout, his hand yanking Haru's dark hair painfully as he bucks into him, spilling himself eagerly into Haru's welcoming mouth. Haru hums, swallowing ravenously while stroking his thighs as Makoto comes down from his climax.

Makoto's knees finally give out when Haru releases him and he sinks to the floor next to him. He reaches for him, pulling him into a kiss and licking the insides of his mouth and tasting himself. "Such a good mouth, Haru... So good, Haruka."

"Hmm. Better than my ass?" Haru nips at his lips.

"Haru!" Makoto barks in laughter that eases into a gentle chuckle, "first of all, if I were to compare, which I won't because it’s nonsensical, but _**if**_ I were, I'm working with a very, very small sample size. Like, tiny sample size. I'd need to expand my sample pool. Which, I hope, we can endeavor in in a vigorous manner very, very soon. And second of all, there's no way the two should or could be compared. At all. You know that."

"Actually, I _don't_ know that. I literally have a sample size of zero."

"Oh. Right. ...We'll work on that after dinner." He tilts his head back to meet his lips until a loud rumbling breaks them apart.

Haru snorts at the noise, "let's get you some food.” Haru rocks back onto his haunches, grasps the counter and pulls himself up.

Makoto leans against the wall and waits for the feeling in his legs to return. He watches Haru climb to his feet, his apron draped primly over his shoulders as he washes his hands and moves around the cramped kitchen to gather ingredients for dinner. Haru leans over to grab the cutting board and Makoto’s eyes roam over his barely concealed body before drifting to the very obvious tent at the front of his apron.  
_Insatiable_ , he smirks.

His eyes then wander to Haru’s exposed backside, his eyes lingering at the bow of the apron resting delicately over the curve of his ass before shifting his attentions lower. He notices his glistening cleft; evidence of their earlier activities trickling from his dusky, puckered hole. He exhales—cursing under his breath.

_Fuck. I did that. That's me. That's my come. And Haru's hole. **My** come dripping from Haru's hole._

He looks up at Haru who looks completely unaffected. Or unaware. He can't tell from this angle. He licks his lips and crawls over to him.

"Makoto. When you're able to function again, you should clean the tab— _fuck_! _Makoto_!" Haru squeaks as Makoto's tongue smoothly slides between his cheeks. Haru pitches forward, fingers clenching against the smooth tiles of the counter, scrabbling and failing to find any kind purchase. "Wha, ah, shit, Makoto... What are you do _ing_?" He asks breathlessly even as it's blatantly obvious exactly what Makoto is up to.

He blames his mouth for not catching up to what his brain already figured out in less than two seconds. Haru thanks his lucky stars that he wasn't holding a knife or any other sharp object when Makoto decided to unceremoniously shove his tongue into his dripping ass. Makoto murmurs something, sending vibrations that radiates throughout his body and...

 _Fuck_ , _was his tongue always this damn talented!?_

"Wh-what?" Haru realizes belatedly that Makoto had said something.

"Gotta clean you up. I did a terrible job the first time around..."

"Makoto," Haru whimpers brokenly, arching his back and shoving his ass back into Makoto's face.

Makoto curls his tongue, smirking at the way Haru moans his name and trembles over the kitchen counter. Haru's elbows slam painfully into the tiles as his arms can no longer support his weight in his weakened state. His forehead is pressed flush against the cool counter, panting at every sweep of Makoto's long tongue and gasping at every scrape of teeth. He groans throatily when Makoto pries his cheeks apart, seeking greater access; _deeper_ access. Haru bites his lip until he draws blood, _literally_ biting back his moans as Makoto's tongue rubs his walls.

Makoto slides a hand under his apron, finding Haru's thick, throbbing, and leaking cock and, wrapping his long fingers around him, he strokes him lazily. Makoto hums at Haru eagerly pushing back at him, pleased to hear him gasping deliriously and enjoying being licked clean from the inside out. Makoto rolls his tongue, burrowing deeper until his nose is buried between his cheeks. Haru bucks wildly against his face, chants of _more_ echo off the metal pots and pans littering their small kitchen. Makoto squeezes Haru gently and then fingers his cockhead; he knows how hard Haru comes whenever he plays with his foreskin. His forefingers rub gentle circles at the exposed tip, dipping a finger into his gushing slit while he brings his other hand up to jerk at the rest of his length leisurely.

Haru feels his knees buckle at the additional ministrations, his knee knocking against the cabinet door, and his groan reverberates in his throat—making his teeth ache. Finally deciding he'd been tortured enough, Makoto flicks a blunt nail under the belled head and Haru throws his head back and cries out feverishly, drenching the front of his apron with his hot, sticky come. Makoto's tongue lashes at his hole one last time before he pulls away from his ass, rising to his feet while his hand still pumps his flagging erection gently. He holds up his slack body, nipping his ear and kissing his neck while curious, come-soaked fingers trail over his nipples.

"You're okay. I've got you."

They stay like that, with Makoto supporting Haru on his feet and murmuring quietly as they wait for the feeling in Haru's limbs to return. Makoto chuckles when he remembers what Haru said before he licked him out. "Are you able to function now, Haru-chan?"

Haru elbows him weakly, "shut up. Insatiable," he adds as an afterthought.

Makoto barks with laughter. "Guess we'll be insatiable together."

Haru pushes forward, his legs finally able to hold himself up again, and turns to glare at his grinning idiot of a boyfriend. "Look at what you did," he gestures to himself. A giant stain tarnishes the front of his apron.

Makoto bites the inside of his mouth, trying not to look infinitely pleased with himself but failing pathetically. He takes Haru's wrist and pulls him to him, "I'll get you a new one," he offers while fiddling with the ties, "a better one," he beams.

"I like this one."

"Yeah... I like this one too."

"Makoto."

"I'll wash it. Get it nice and clean."

"You better."

"Won't be able to look at it the same way ever again though. Might wanna drop to my knees every time you put it on, Haruka."

Haru flushes hotly, “shut up. Go clean up. And put Ran and Ren's gift away."

Warm laughter fills the air as Makoto makes his way to the bathroom to take a quick(-ish) shower but when he returns, he notices that Haru is wearing _clothes_. He's not too disappointed though, Haru's wearing one of _his_ old t-shirts; one that he doesn't really fit anymore. He didn't know even know he still had that. But he’d gladly keep all his old shirts if it meant seeing Haru in them. It hangs off his body, the collar dipping low to expose the pale expanse of his collarbone. …Which is dotted with faded and fresh red marks. 

"You put on clothes."

He looks up from the pan and tsks at him, “so did you. And you’re the one that was worried about me cooking naked, Makoto. Besides, it's uncomfortable to wear a come stained apron for longer than two minutes."

"You're so vulgar, Haru-chan."

" _Says your mouth_."

He coughs to cover up a laugh, "I'm so glad I don't live at home anymore. I can't even imagine what my parents would think if they heard half the things I say..."

"I would hope you wouldn't say even a _quarter_ of the things you say in their presence. _Especially_ given the context. You have the most vulgar vocabulary of anyone I know."

"Because Haru-chan knows a lot of people,” he grins lightheartedly.

Haru grumbles. It’s not inaccurate. "Shut up. You still haven’t cleaned the table. Dinner is almost ready."

“Hai, hai,” Makoto rolls up the large parchment and neatly slides it into the mailing tube. Hopefully, he’ll be able to get it in the post soon.

He moves to the kitchen and scoops a hefty helping of rice as Haru transfers the lemongrass chicken concoction onto a dinner plate. They sit and eat in relative silence, their bare feet brushing up against the other from time to time with Makoto occasionally murmuring in contentment. "Another successful cooking experiment, Haru-chan."

Haru shrugs. It's good but it's missing something... "Chilies," he mutters in realization.

"Haru-chan?"

"It's missing chilies. It needs a bit more of kick to it."

"Ooh! Spicy! I like it!"

He nods firmly at the idea, "next time."

They finish their meal and Makoto moves to pick up the plates and silverware but is stopped by Haru.

"Haru?"

"Leave it."

"But..."

"Later."

Confusion etches across his face. Haru is never one to put things off. "Haru?"

Haru takes the plate from his hands and places it gently back on the table and looks at him with unwavering eyes. "Get in bed and wait for me."

Makoto’s eyes widen in realization, his body flushing instantly at the demand. “O-oh... Right. Okay. I'll just, yeah."

He scurries off to the bedroom and waits (impatiently) for Haru as instructed. He startles when Haru enters the room, carrying a small, nondescript box. His eyes dart to the box and then back to Haru's face and with a tilt of his head, he asks, "Haru?"

He climbs into his lap, placing the box, that upon closer inspection, Makoto immediately recognizes as chocolate, between them, “you didn't have dessert."

Makoto grins boyishly at him, "sure I did!"

Haru furrows his brow in confusion, "no you didn't. I was there."

“Yeah,” he nods in agreement. "So you should know that I already had my dessert," he smirks deviously and flicks his tongue at his teeth.

Haru's eyes widen comically as it dawns on him what Makoto meant, "oh, my g-"

"Haru-chan's the sweetest treat I've ever had."

"You... _pervert._  I can't believe you just said that."

Makoto scoffs loudly, “oh please, you've said worse."

"Not even close,” Haru vehemently denies.

He arches an eyebrow and calmly recalls, “just earlier, you asked me to compare fucking your mouth to your ass. And even earlier than that, you said you'd make sure that I'd fi-"

Haru slaps his hand over Makoto's mouth, "Yes, thank you. I was there, I don't really need you to recount it."

"I don't know why you're getting all grumpy.  _You're_ the one that said it, not me,” he cups a large hand over Haru’s cheeks that Haru quickly bats away.

"Shut up. Fine. So we'll be insatiable and vulgar and whatever else together. We do everything else together."

"Is that a bad thing?" He frowns worriedly.

“No,” Haru automatically responds. "I like doing things with Makoto. Life without you would be boring. You make things interesting."

He beams up at him, "I like doing things with Haru-chan too."

_Oh my gods, he is so mouthy_!

“Shut up."

He breaks out in hysterics at Haru's glowering face, "that's not what I meant! I mean, sure, there's that, but there's everything else I like to do with you too. Like watching TV or attempts at cooking. Even folding laundry."

"And swimming."

“Yes, and swimming. Very, very important is the swimming. And I like it when we go on our dates."

"...Me too." Haru brings his knuckles to his lips and kisses them, "I like you, Makoto."

Makoto smiles to himself. The words seem small and silly in the context of their relationship but the feelings and sentiment behind it isn't at all inaccurate. "I like you, Haru-chan."

"Lay off the -chan." Makoto's lip twitches upward suspiciously, as if Haru had said something amusing.

_Probably thinking about something inappropriate. Pervert._

He's pretty sure he's missing something but he ignores the nagging feeling that persists and instead discards the chocolates on the nightstand and pushes Makoto down on the bed. "Should I take off my clothes, Haru?"

"No. I'll do it. Wouldn't want you to get stuck again."

"That only happened twice!"

"That's twice too many. Honestly, Makoto, I sometimes worry about you." He slides the white v-neck up his torso, dragging the soft cotton over his muscles and gently slipping it over his head.

"It's not my fault!"

"Of course it isn’t," he pats his arms consolingly (Makoto would say condescendingly) as he shimmies the boxers down Makoto's legs.

"It's yours!"

"Excuse me? Mine?" Haru's hands freeze midway, his brow arched delicately at the accusation.

"Yeah. _Yours_. I can't think when I'm with you, Haru. I can barely function as a human being."

Haru's jaw twitches imperceptibly. "Is that supposed to move me?"  _It does. A little._ "Because it doesn't."

"Just that you should take responsibility."

He scoffs at the idea, "I didn't realize you were such a comedian, Makoto." Haru tugs the rest of his boxers off, dropping it to the floor.

"Who's being funny? I'm serious!"

"Mm-hmm," he murmurs, but it’s clear that he’s only half listening.

He crawls back on the bed, trailing light fingers up his calves and thighs before straddling him again. Taking Makoto's hands, he guides them under the oversized shirt Haru had hastily thrown on earlier. "You're much better at taking off  _my_ clothes than you are at your own."

Makoto smirks, "but you're so efficient at it. I'll never understand how you do that so fast." Makoto hands slide up his sides, dragging _his_ shirt up along the way.

"Magic."

"Don't tease, Haruka," he pulls the shirt over Haru's head and pulls him down to kiss him, "I'm liable to believe that."

Haru hums, tipping the other's head back and slipping his tongue into Makoto's parted mouth. Makoto runs his hands over his smooth back and dipping his hands under his boxers, his thumbs catching and hooking the waistband. He pushes it down, over his firm ass and lets Haru shimmy out of them the rest of the way.

The slide of Haru's bare skin over his own, as always, leaves him more than a little dizzy. And before he realizes it, he’s hard again. But Haru doesn’t seem to be in any rush to relieve him. He lightly drags his blunt nails over his rib cage, tickling him and he squirms to try to get away. Makoto whines but Haru continues to skim his fingertips across his twitching muscles, gently raking his nails over his nipples. His own hands itch to touch him so he twists his fingers in his silky hair and deepens their kiss. Their tongues slide and tangle and coil over and around the other; tasting and savoring the quiet moans and cozy warmth of their mouths.

Haru pulls away, his eyes glazing over. "Where's the lube?” He pants while his eyes wildly scans the room.

“Dunno,” Makoto breathlessly replies. "You're the one that tossed it."

“Dammit." He reluctantly climbs off of Makoto and tears through the bed and surrounding area to find that stupid bottle. He finally finds it under the bed. It must have rolled under when he chucked it earlier. He reaches for it but it's _just_ out of his reach. He huffs in irritation. “Makoto."

He looks up to find Makoto peering over the bed, “yes?"

"I need your condor arms."

"They're not condor arms!"

"Would you just!”

Makoto slides off the bed and onto the floor, easily locating and rolling it out from under the bed without even looking.

"Show off, " Haru grumbles. "Get back on the bed," he commands when he notices Makoto grinning wolfishly at him.

He clamors back into bed, resuming his position before Haru ransacked the immediate vicinity.

"Shit. We may have gone overboard on the lube."

"We're not out, are we?"

He holds the bottle up, "almost. Just enough for... _maybe_ two more uses if we're the enterprising sort."

"I believe in you, Haru. Enterprise away!” He raises his arms over his head to cheer him on and Haru rolls his eyes in mild amusement. "Idiot." 

He busies his hands, fiddling with the cap of the lube but when Makoto clears his throat impatiently, he looks up and smirks. Makoto is always tutting about how impatient he is. _Well, who's the impatient one now_? He flips the cap open, upturning it, but instead of squeezing the bottle, Haru waits for the lube to slowly drizzle out from the nozzle and onto his fingers.  
Makoto lets out a frustrated groan; the white hot, searing heat that had been simmering since Haru commanded him to the bedroom is threatening to boil over.

"Haruka," he rumbles, low and gruff.

"Makoto," he retorts with a raised eyebrow, challenging him to rush him after admonishing him for the same thing earlier.

Once he determines that his fingers are sufficiently coated, he pushes Makoto thighs apart and settles in between, sitting back on his heels. He hems and haws in an exaggerated manner before idly teasing his entrance as Makoto trembles in anticipation against the cool sheets.

"Did you clean yourself, Makoto?"

He snorts loudly, "I certainly hope so. Or else I wasted all that water for nothing,” he pauses to think and corrects himself, “actually, I may have wasted it anyway... Considering."

"Hmm. I wonder…" He murmurs mostly to himself. His tongue unconsciously pokes out from the corner of his mouth as he easily slides his index finger in.

_Ah. So he is still stretched from earlier._

Makoto arches off the bed at the familiar pressure, his legs wantonly falling open as he rotates his hips to capture Haru deeper. Haru leans over him, flicking his swollen cockhead with his tongue and then sliding the wet heat down his shaft. Haru’s tongue joins his finger at his ass, not penetrating but, licking and swiping and swirling the lube-smeared, twitching rim. Makoto whimpers above him, spreading his thighs further, pleading for more but after one final twirl of the tongue, Haru inches upward, dragging his lips and tongue over the length of Makoto’s hard body. Randomly dipping his clever tongue in the grooves of his pelvis and abdomen until Haru stops at his chest, tonguing his already sweat-slicked chest and pulling a nipple into his mouth and sucking harshly until the peak is bruised, red, and tender to the touch.

Haru pushes another finger into his feverish cavern. Makoto's groan rattles their chests, sending tingles to every nerve and cell of their bodies. Haru's body skims enticingly over Makoto as he nibbles and licks every exposed inch of skin made available to him. Makoto slams his palm up against the headboard, panting and squirming restlessly at the relentless assault of Haru's lips and tongue all over his heated flesh. Haru wiggles a third finger past the ring of muscles, this time with a little more difficulty, but Makoto isn't bothered as he _impales_  himself on his fingers.  
Haru _bites_ his shoulder as a warning or a reprimand for being so careless but a lewd groan slips from Makoto's lips instead.  
His cock is heavy and flushed, swollen red with need and dripping in desperation.

"Please, **_Ha_** -Haruka, I... I can't wait anymore. Need— fu _CK_ , _please_. Need you."

_Oh, good. The begging has started._

Haru elects to continue fucking him with his fingers instead. Pushing in and out of his pliant body, fast enough to drive him right up to the edge but not fast enough to push him over. Makoto thrashes on the bed, whimpering woefully. His muscles coiling upon itself and tensing at every inward thrust. His wet, hard, heavy cock sways untouched and angrily in the air, slapping wetly against his stomach at each and every movement.  
Makoto babbles incoherently, sobbing and pleading with Haru to offer _some_  kind of relief; _**any**_  kind of relief. Haru smooths his disheveled hair away from his face, cooing and offering words of comfort.

"Makoto." Makoto forces his eyes open, his shiny green orbs blinking in disorientation. "How do you want to do this, Makoto?" Haru slows his movements and lets Makoto to process the question. Makoto pants, blinking slowly as he realizes what Haru is asking of him.

_Oh_.

He sucks in a deep breath and exhales. “Here," he reluctantly pulls Haru's fingers out of his ass with a low grunt and positions Haru to sit against the headboard. With uncharacteristic grace, Makoto slides into his lap and dips his head down to kiss him, licking the insides of his cheeks and roof. "Like this. I wanna see you. ...Is this okay?"

“Anything you want, Makoto,” Haru replies earnestly.

His lips twitch upward as he remembers that he had once said the same thing to Haru. His smile widens when he remembers what Haru said in return. He pecks Haru's nose in amusement, “that’s an awfully dangerous thing to say, Haruka…"

Haru plays with his fingers and then entwines them together, knuckles sliding over the other. "I don't know... I like a little danger. Especially if it's with _you_."

Makoto chuckles at the sentiment, "my boyfriend is such a romantic."

Haru snorts loudly, “yeah. Next thing you know, I'm going to show up at your doorstep with flowers and chocolate."

"Oo, chocolate. I like that."

"I brought you chocolates. You didn't want them, remember? Because you already had dessert."

He grins widely at Haru, "it can be my _after-dessert_ dessert."

"Gluttonous."

"I'm greedy..." He agrees.

He trails off when Haru suckles at his collarbone, "please tell me we have enough lube left."

"Of course. I'm being enterprising, remember?" He nips cheekily at his chin.

"Hm," he murmurs hazily.

Haru strokes his sides and remembers. He prefers not to but Makoto had asked him earlier so it's just courtesy on his part. "Condom?"

But Makoto shakes his head, "next time. Haru... I can't wait anymore. Want you. Please.  **Now**."

"Lube's behind you," he whispers against his lips before sinking his tongue into Makoto's warm mouth.

Reaching back, Makoto gropes blindly at the bed, not wanting to detach himself from Haru's mouth. Bottle in hand, he raises himself onto his knees and shakily squeezes the lube, messily coating the lube on Haru's hot, thick, thrumming erection with his hands. He tosses the empty bottle carelessly and reaches behind him, smearing the excess lube around his entrance and dipping his finger in for good measure.

"Makoto," Haru growls in warning.

Makoto moans deeply at the rawness and rough quality of Haru's voice and reaches for his cock. He pulls his finger out and lines his cock up to his opening.  
"Ready?" He hears Haru murmur; he murmurs back and eagerly nods, “ _yes_." Haru curls an arm around his waist while the other strokes at his chest. Makoto slowly sinks onto him.

"Okay?"

Makoto hisses his approval, “ _yes,_ " pausing briefly when Haru's thick cockhead breaches the outer rim. Haru rubs gentle circles at his hip, telling him to take his time. His head lurches forward, burying his face in Haru's neck and whines at the slow, burning intrusion at his ass. But Makoto doesn't let that deter him. He cautiously rocks back and forth, lowering his aching body onto Haru's hard, pulsing cock. Haru lays gentle kisses over his chest, shoulders, neck, and face; murmuring quiet words of encouragements and praise.

After what felt like an eternity to both, Haru finally finds himself fully seated in Makoto; his ass clenching and fluttering around him as Makoto adjusts and familiarizes himself with the intrusion. They stay like that, basking in the heat and contentment with sweet kisses and gentle whispers.  
...Until Makoto experimentally lifts himself up and then sliding back down.

"Haruka... _Ha-Haru_..." he moans, eyes fluttering shut.

Haru slides his hands over his back, stroking his spine and then drifting to cup his ass. He rocks against him, rolling his hips the best he could considering his position, not content on letting Makoto do all the work. “ _Hm_ , Makoto..." Using the headboard as leverage, he thrusts up into Makoto's quivering body, ripping a startled yelp from him.

Recovering from the slight fumble, Makoto rides him earnestly, his wet cock trapped between their bodies and rubbing against their stomachs. Haru rolls his hips, meeting Makoto's downward thrusts with his upward ones. They grind impatiently—roughly, _urgently_ —against each other each time their pelvises meet. Aided by Haru's hands clutched at his hips, Makoto writhes in his lap, leaning back slightly and bracing an arm behind him next to Haru’s knee as he continues to move over him. He arches his back to take him just a little bit deeper—a bit  _harder_ —involuntarily squeezing Haru's cock sporadically when his cock twitches and swells between his walls. Haru lavishes his chest with wet kisses and flicking licks. Twisting and rotating his hips, Makoto tries to angle and leverage himself just right so he can...

In an impressive show of strength, Haru curls an arm around Makoto's waist and wraps the other around his back and flips him onto his back without pulling out of him. He laves kisses down his corded throat and across his chest, sighing at the way Makoto squirms against him and the guttural groans coming from the man stretched out under him. He guides one of Makoto's legs to wrap high around him, the new angle allowing him to...

He blinks, disoriented and confused at why he's suddenly looking up at the ceiling. But then Haru is hovering over him, his fingers digging into his hips, thrusting shallowly and carefully into him. The look of concentration—his jaw clenched tightly—as he rolls his hips and drags his cock in and out of him rhythmically as if searching for...

_Oh._

_**That**. Searching **and** finding **that**. _

"Yes..." Makoto hisses blissfully, his fingers biting into Haru’s shoulders. “There!... Haru. _Haru_. Ha- _Haruka_..."

_That's_ what Makoto had been trying to find when he rode him. Of course Haru quickly figured out what Makoto was aiming for and found it for him. The belled knob of his cock grinding against his prostate causing Makoto to arch against Haru and squeeze his legs around him. His hands grasping and clenching at Haru's arms and shoulders, at his back and ass, and at whatever else he could reach.

"Makoto," Haru hums breathlessly. "Ha-Ma _koto_...so good. You always, _ha_ , feel so _good_. You're... So _hot_ , Makoto. ...Makoto..."

Makoto continues to grope at Haru, wanting to pull him closer, wanting him _deeper_ , wanting for them to _melt_ into each other.

" _More_ , Haru... I need— so good… Again, Haruka, _hah_ , please,” he pants against Haru’s warm lips and he can't seem to stop the string on frantic pleases spilling from his mouth as it seems to spur Haru on.

"So tight. How... Makoto..."

Haru's blunt cockhead grazes at his prostate again and Makoto gasps, his body shivering like a leaf twisting in the wind.  
His cock rubs against him for a _third_ time and Makoto swears he had been staring at the sun because there's no other explanation for the way his vision blurs as a wave of colorful spots flashes behind his eyelids.  
The next time he grinds at him, Haru curls his fingers around him and coos at him to come—that he wants to _see_ him and _hear_ him and _feel_ him—and Makoto comes harshly with Haruka's name falling from his lips.

Makoto curls his legs tightly around Haru's slender waist, squeezing his torso hard enough to bruise. He slides his hands to Haru's ass, and with the last remaining strength he's able to summon, he arches, lifting his ass off the bed to urge Haru even deeper. Sliding his own hands to Makoto's firm cheeks, Haru bucks into him roughly, his balls slapping against Makoto's upturned ass. Makoto breathlessly gasps at that, reflexively  _squeezing_ his cock one final time and Haru shouts Makoto's name, coming in hard, thick spurts.

Haru slumps forward, landing on Makoto's solid but sweat-and-come soaked chest and whines when his cock slips from Makoto's warmth. Makoto brushes Haru sweat slicked hair from his face and kisses his temple as he waits for Haru to resemble himself again.

"You totally wasted that shower."

Makoto barks in laughter and dissolves into manic giggles, "I don't even know what possessed me to take one. I knew this would happen."

“I like that we make messes."

Makoto laughs again, "but that's more clean up for us!"

"I don't mind it. Speaking of..." Haru notices the stickiness trapped between them. "Can we take a shower now?"

"Fuck, yes. Help me up."

With dual groans, Haru pulls Makoto to his feet; Haru’s come seeping noticeably from his ass and trickling down the back and insides of his thighs. Haru contemplates returning the favor and cleaning him with his tongue but they wobble unsteadily; trying to keep each other upright as their uncoordinated limbs flail uselessly.  
They’re both unexpectedly seized with a fit of laughter. Makoto’s eyes twinkle in awe at Haru’s unusual show of delight and is suddenly compelled to kiss him senseless. So he pulls the giddy Haru into his arms and does exactly that.  
It’s a rare treat for Haru to be _this_ open and carefree so he vows to devote all his time in finding all the things that will elicit that kind of reaction from him again. When they pull away, Haru is still bubbling and snorting with laughter and Makoto can’t help but laugh along. Haru tugs Makoto toward the bathroom, the two of them snickering all the way to the shower. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, that's right, fuck traditional sex roles! They both top and bottom and they like it! Why limit yourself to 50% of the sexual experience? Be a giver _and_ a taker!
> 
> Note: how fortuitous that this is the May chapter because I guess this can take place during Golden Week for that long weekend recovery. I didn't plan it like that but it certainly works for me.
> 
> Apologies to anyone that likes The Little Mermaid. Haru's rants are my rants. But the songs really are catchy as fuck.
> 
> There's that Mama-Tachibana twisted/inappropriate sense of humor.
> 
> Oh my god. I realized halfway through that Makoto had his own come in his ass.  
> HAHAHAHAHHAHAAH. PLEASE IGNORE ME. MY BRAIN IS DEMENTED.
> 
> There may be something seriously wrong with me.
> 
> I apologize for nothing.
> 
> As usual, thoughts, comments, and suggestions are welcomed and encouraged!


	13. June

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what drives me crazy? That it's been seven months since posting the first chapter of this story and I'm still going back and editing because I just keep finding errors. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? And why do I care? Why can't I leave it alone, warts and all? It is maddening and infuriating.  
> (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻
> 
> No warning for this chapter! Shocking, I know, given the string of NSFW-ness of the previous installments. But a break from all the smut is good. There's only so much smut before it becomes gratuitous and I'm pretty sure I've already exceeded it.
> 
> Anyway, here's a new chapter. Thanks to everyone who is still reading, commenting, and dropping love and kudos! It is very much appreciated! One could say, I appreciate it like how Haru appreciates Makoto.  
> That's a big deal, y'know? ;)

The last remnants of sleep slowly ebbs away as his subconscious stirs, pulling him to semi-alertness. The warm, early morning light peeks between the blinds and through the curtains, bathing the room in an ethereal glow. He squints at the clock by his bedside, trying to make it out. He has to blink away the blurriness several times before he sees that it’s 7:30.  
_In the morning_.  
And his boyfriend is strangely _not_ in bed with him. He _never_ wakes up this early. Not even for 8AM classes.  
He glares at the cold, empty space next to him in disdain.

"Ow!" He hears a muffled curse that clearly did _not_ come from Makoto. The voice is way too deep.

"Shhhhh! You're going to wake him!"

_Ah, there's Makoto._

"Well, whose fault is that?!" the voice — it's familiar but his head is still hazy with sleep so he can’t place it just yet — from earlier hisses irritably.

“Are you going to help or not?” he hisses back quietly.

“What do you _think_ I’m doing?” This time, the deep voice growls impatiently. “Do we really  _have_ to make this?"

Haru rolls himself out of bed. Despite their ' ** _best_** ' efforts to be quiet, they suck at it.

“It’s his favorite! So yes, yes we do!” he hears his boyfriend growl back.

“I don’t know _why_ I even agreed to this. This is ridiculous!"

“Shhhh! You’re going to wake him!” Makoto hisses again.

He stumbles into the living room, scratching his chest and rubbing the crustiness from his eyes, “too late. He’s awake,” Haru grumbles.

Makoto squeaks and jumps and spins around in surprise, “Haru!"

“Morning, Makoto.” He notices the deep voice that had been speaking to Makoto in hushed tones before he interrupted and nods, “Sousuke."

“Haru,” he nods back.

“Happy birthday.”

Haru freezes immediately, not expecting the birthday wish, “uh, thanks."

Makoto turns back to glare at their friend. “Dammit, Sousuke! _I_ wanted to wish him happy birthday first!”

Sousuke shrugs nonchalantly — not giving a shit what Makoto wanted after making him drag himself out of bed at the break of dawn for this bullshit, "like you didn't wish him happy birthday last night." Wagging his eyebrows, Sousuke smirks at Makoto's disbelieving and red face and goes back to fussing over what ever he was fussing over before he came out here.

Makoto blocks Haru’s view into the kitchen and smiles brightly, “happy birthday, Haru-chan.” He leans down, tipping Haru's head back and kisses the sleep away.  
Before it can progress any further — like he _wanted_  — a purposefully loud cough breaks them apart. Haru swivels his neck to peer into the kitchen and also to glare at Sousuke but is again blocked by Makoto.

He huffs in irritation at being obstructed at every turn, “What are you doing to my kitchen?"

“Nothing! Nothing at all! Um, Haru, don’t you want to take your bath now?"

He narrows his eyes at him skeptically, “What I _want_ is to know what you and Sousuke are doing."

“It’s nothing! I promise! Nothing _bad_! Just… go ahead and take your bath. You can stay as long as you’d like!"

He eyes him _and_ Sousuke — who is now standing next to Makoto — suspiciously. But he drops it for now. He's not going to argue. Not when Makoto said that he can stay in the bath for as long as he wants. And with Sousuke here, he doesn't have to worry about Makoto burning down his kitchen. He turns with a half pleased, half annoyed huff and heads for the bath.

Makoto exhales in relief, grabs Sousuke's wrist and drags him back to the kitchen, "okay, we gotta hurry and finish this."

Sousuke sighs, "why? You just told him he can stay in the tub for as long as he wants."

Makoto looks at him in dismay, "he can’t stay in there all day!"

"Why not? It’s probably how he’d want to spend his birthday anyway."

"Sousuke," comes the tired and exasperated plea.

Sousuke grits his teeth and clenches his jaw in aggravation, " _fine_."

Sousuke carefully fillets the _damn, stupid mackerel_ while Makoto slices the pineapple. Makoto breaks the comfortable silence and Sousuke nearly slices his palm at the question.

"Have you seen Rin since he’s been back?"

He re-grips the fillet knife, "…No."

"Why not?" Sousuke shrugs nonchalantly, hoping it would be enough for Makoto to drop the subject. But it's Makoto. "Are you two okay?"

"We’re... fine. Just fine."

"Sousuke..."

His shoulders droop in exhaustion, "what do you want me to say, Makoto?"

"I thought you talked about it."

"Our ‘ _conversation_ ' got aborted on the account of Gou's _date_ showing up. And after that… Neither one of us have been real keen on bringing it up again."

"But… it’s pretty difficult to misinterpret ‘I rather suck you,’ isn’t it?"

Sousuke lets out a mirthless snort, “one would think... But Rin is either really dense or he's purposefully playing the part.” He heaves a tired sigh, “maybe he thought I was joking.” Sousuke shrugs and frowns, "I don't know. Maybe he just isn't interested."

Makoto adamantly shakes his head, “that's impossible. He's totally interested."

"And how the hell would you know?"

He coyly arches an eyebrow, "He's as obvious as you are."

"I am not obvious!"

"Sure you're not,” he assures Sousuke condescendingly.

Sousuke sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, "Says the guy that took _19 years_ to get together with the love of his life."

Makoto gapes at him and any retort he might have had dies in his throat. "Shut up."

He stops his filleting and looks at Makoto, “seriously though, it really could be that he's not interested. He had a crush on Haru. I mean, maybe he still does...” he trails off; warily glancing at the other man and wondering if perhaps he overstepped his bounds.

Instead, Makoto snorts in amusement. "He used to have a crush on me too. What’s your point?"

Sousuke does a double take, “wait, _what_?"

"Oh, yeah,” Makoto chuckles lowly. At Sousuke’s questioning look, Makoto elaborates, “You mean to tell me you don't know? Come on, it’s Rin! Hopeless romantic!Rin. Ringing any bells? He's had a crush on _all_ of us at one time or another; me, Haru, Rei—”

"Wait, Rei!? _Nerdy, speedo-megane Rei_?"

“Hey, don’t call him that!” He narrows his eyes at Sousuke correctly points out that “Rei and Rin happen to have a lot in common. Besides... Rei gave up his spot in the relay for Rin.” He rolls his neck and stares at the ceiling, “I think a lot of his feelings for Rei stems from that.” He looks at Sousuke with a discerning eye, “so you see, I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to think that he’s had a crush on you at once upon a time. Or _**now**_ for that matter.”

Sousuke furrows his brow at that, his mind working a thousand kilometers per hour, racing from thought to thought at Makoto’s revelations.

Sousuke hands over the mackerel once he finished filleting it, leaving Makoto to pluck the tiny bones from the fish.

“I mean… Rin _has_ to know how you feel, right?”

Sousuke rolls his eyes good-naturedly, “not everyone can be like you and Nanase, Makoto. We don't have wordless conversations in our heads.”

“That's not how we have conversations! I mean, okay, yes, sometimes we kinda do. But not about this stuff! The, you know...  _intimate_ parts of our relationship. Those require actual words.”

Sousuke scrunches his face, scowling at him, “and I just learned so much more than I needed to learn about you and Haru’s relationship. It bothers me that you’re so comfortable telling me these things. I don't need to know about you and Nanase's forays into dirty talk.”

Makoto splutters, “how did you get _that_ from what I said?!” 

Sousuke snorts, “how could you not?” Makoto glares at him. Sousuke sighs. He was just teasing. “Look, don’t worry about it, okay? Rin and I… we’ll figure it out eventually.”

“He’s not avoiding you, is he?”

“No, of course not. It's business as usual.”

Sousuke watches Makoto's progress as he cleans the used knife.

"What about Nagisa?” He ponders abruptly.

“What about him?”

“Did Rin ever have a crush on him?”

“Oh, no. I think he always thought of Nagisa more like a little brother than anything else…” he trails off with a grimace, “don’t tell Nagisa! He’ll make a big fuss at being left out.”

Makoto finishes de-boning the fish, not really satisfied in Sousuke’s lack of conversation regarding this matter but also not wanting to push it. He has a feeling that this is about as much as he’s willing to offer at the moment. “I still can't believe you said that.”

Sousuke snickers, “I know. But I saw the opening and I took it.”

Makoto's response is automatic. “Phrasing.”

“Juvenile.”

“ _You_ said it first,” Makoto says, jabbing his finger at his solidly hard chest, but Sousuke bats his finger away, “yeah, yeah... Your boyfriend _never_ lets me forget it.”

Makoto bites his lip before offering, “Rin will figure it out. He just... needs time.”

Sousuke huffs through his nose, “It's been _three_ months.”

Makoto shrugs, “it's Rin,” he reasons, as if _that_ explains anything. Which, sadly, in this instance, it actually does.

“Yeah. It's Rin. Dumb, dense Rin.”

He directs Makoto to slide the de-boned fish onto the sizzling pan and, again, looks at Makoto. Sousuke fondly chuckles at Makoto's concentration. He really is adorable. Nanase is such a lucky asshole. Here Makoto is, taking the time and effort in making his boyfriend his favorite dish despite having _zero_  aptitude for the culinary arts. And then begging _him_ to supervise his progress lest he burn down Haru's precious kitchen. _And_ he's got a full day planned just for this occasion.  
Yeah, fucking lucky ass asshole. Haru better understand how lucky he is and that he appreciates Makoto for being, well, Makoto. He's pretty sure Haru does though judging from the looks he gives Makoto whenever he _thinks_ no one is looking. Or whenever he blushes but _thinks_ he isn't but he totally is. Haru is a total sap. Even if he downright refuses to admit it.

“You know,” he starts, “if you weren’t with Nanase and if I weren’t in love with Rin, I’d totally bang you.”

“Sousuke!” He spins around in shock.

He continues over him, “actually, even being in love with Rin, I'd still bang you.”

“Sousuke!” He groans in embarrassment.

“I mean, you're _always_ flirting with me.”

“I do not!”

He eyes him critically, “every time you say my name, you're flirting with me.”

“ _Sousuke_.” _Dammit, why does that always happen?_

“See?!”

He pouts, folding his arms and puffing his cheeks, annoyance once again flaring at how they've co-opted his stern!Makoto voice.  
“That's not—! I really don't like that you've _all_ turned this into a running joke! How am I supposed to reprimand anyone if all you’ll do is laugh and leer?”

“You can flip it over now.”

 _Wait, what_ …? “Huh?”

“The _fish_ , Makoto.” Sousuke looks pointedly at the skillet. “Pay attention.”

“Oh. Right.”

After Makoto flips the fillet over, he resumes their earlier conversation, “you can try spanking.”

“Sousuke!”

“But seriously, I’m glad you’re my friend, Makoto.”

It's always jarring how Sousuke is able to change the tone and demeanor of an entire conversation at a drop of a hat. Makoto's eyes soften, “I’m glad too.”

“And if Rin weren’t my best friend, you totally would be,” he informs in sincerely.

Makoto’s bright smile stretches over his face, “I don’t see why you can’t have two.”

“Don’t think Haru would like that.”

“I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

He gasps in mock shock. “Woah, lying? Oh, Makoto, don’t you know that lies ruin relationships?”

“Like I could really lie to Haru anyway. We have never been able to look each other in the eye and lie.”

“Mind readers,” Sousuke nods sagely.

“Not mind readers! I wish everyone would stop perpetuating that myth.”

“Check if it's done.”

 _Say what now_?

Sousuke's eyes drifts to the fish again.

“Oh. Uh... how?”

Sousuke sighs. He doesn't know how Haru does it. He must have the patience of a saint. “Do you have a cake tester?”

“A what now?”

“Never mind,” he grabs a knife. “Knife will work. You poke it. It should be firm and opaque.” He peeks inside, “see? It's done.”

He puts the finishing touches on the mackerel, neatly placing a slice of fresh pineapple on top. Sousuke claps him on the back as Makoto brushes his hands on the washcloth.

“There. See? All done. That wasn't too traumatizing, was it?”

“Thanks, Sou.”

“It's no problem.” Sousuke rakes his fingers through his mane, messily combing through the short strands. “Tell me how it goes.” He winces and corrects himself, “actually don't. I don't need to know about you and Haru's nocturnal activities. I see enough of it.” He flicks his finger at the _very_ red hickey on his neck.

Makoto bats him away. “We aren’t—! That's not the plan! Just get out now, Sousuke.”

“Well, that's gratitude for you. I know your parents raised you better than that, Makoto.”

“I'm closing the door now.”

He waves his hand dismissively, “remember, we have a study date tomorrow afternoon. Don't let Haru wear you out too much,” he gives him a lascivious wink coupled with an even more salacious grin.

“And we're done. Goodbye!” The door slams on Sousuke's laughing face.

Makoto takes a deep breath and turns to the bathroom. Hanging out with Sousuke is so _exhausting_.

He knocks out of habit before walking in. Haru's submerged under the water but pops his head up when he sees Makoto hovering patiently at the rim. 

“Time to get out, Haru-chan.” 

Haru huffs, “lay off the -chan. And you said I can stay for as long as I want,” he grumbles even as he grasps the offered hand and pulls himself upright.

Makoto's eyes bulge out of his sockets, “you're not wearing jammers, Haru.”

“Why would I?”

He supposes he has a point. Haru only ever wore them for his benefit. But it was still unexpected whenever he decides to soak sans jammers. Haru grabs a towel to dry off his hair while Makoto quickly wraps another fluffy towel around him. Haru lets Makoto take care of him, allowing himself to be pulled toward the bedroom.

Once situated in their room, Haru dries his hair while Makoto pulls out a clean outfit for him. When Makoto turns around, the towel has slipped from his shoulders and pooled at his feet. He swallows and bites back a groan as he’s presented with a _very_ naked, and a still  _very_  wet Haru. And _fuck_ , all he wants to do is drop to his knees. To throw Haru's legs over his shoulders and worship and suck his cock. To swallow his hot shaft and even hotter spunk. He shakes out of his daydream. There's a plan for today and an impromptu morning suck job, unfortunately, isn't on the itinerary. Although, he does make a mental note to slot it in for later on the day.

Once dried and dressed, he links his fingers through Haru’s and leads him to the dining table and presents him with the mackerel-pineapple concoction that he and Sousuke made. He lights a candle that he had stuck in the pineapple ring earlier and proudly presents it to Haru.

"Happy birthday, Haru," he grins proudly at Haru and he can't help but smile back.

"Is this why Sousuke was here this morning?"

"I wanted to make it myself but I didn't want to burn the kitchen down so Sousuke came over to supervise me. And help. He helped a lot."

"Good thinking."

"Make a wish, Haru-chan!"

"But I already have everything I want," he casts a meaningful look at Makoto. And a suddenly flustered Makoto blushes deeply and splutters incoherently and Haru _definitely_ said that on purpose judging by the gentle smirk blooming over his face. Pleased that he got the reaction he wanted, he indulges in Makoto’s childlike merriment and blows out the candle.

After a quick _itadakimasu_ , Haru discretely sniffs at the mackerel and it smells good enough. He just hopes Makoto didn't mix up salt and sugar again. He breaks off a large-ish piece.  
_Flaky_.  
So far, so good. He wishes he didn't have to brace himself for the bite but he does it on instinct. He quickly pops it into his mouth. And... it's good. It's _really_ good. It's slightly overdone (as to be expected since it was sitting out for a few minutes) but it's still delicious. He chews slowly, rolling it in his mouth and around his tongue, savoring the taste. He swallows with a smile.

"It's really good, Makoto.” Makoto colors _again_ at the compliment.

Haru breaks off another piece and holds it up for Makoto. His confused eyes dart from Haru’s chopsticks to his face and back. “Me?”

He nods. "Try some. You made it."

“I made it for you. For your birthday, Haru."

"And I'm sharing. On my birthday."

They both lean over the table. Makoto’s cheeks are still flushed but are tinged in a fetching light pink instead of bright red as he closes his mouth around Haru's chopsticks. And like Haru, he chews slowly. Haru watches as his eyes light up in pride.

"Hm, that is good."

"There's something... different though. Did you add something extra?"

"Hmm..." Makoto furrows his brow and scrunches his nose. "Oh, I know!" Haru looks at him expectantly and Makoto grins at him, "it's love!"

…  
…

Haru gawks at him in incredulity. His chopsticks fall out of his hand and clatters onto the table. "Idiot."

"I'm just kidding!” Makoto’s head tilts, his eyes closing in that delightful manner that it does whenever he smiles. "I may have accidentally knocked some togarashi into it. I tried fishing it out but I guess I didn't get all of it. Heh, fishing it out.” His pleased giggle ripples throughout the room. "See what I did there?"

Haru rolls his eyes affectionately. His boyfriend is such a dork. An adorable, loving, ridiculously handsome dork. "I like it. I may add it the next time I make it." He chews and swallows another piece, adding some pineapple to it as well. "You did a good job Makoto." Makoto smiles and opens his mouth but Haru already knows what he's going to say so he cuts him off, "you're still not allowed in the kitchen without supervision."

He pouts and slumps into his seat but perks up when Haru slides into the seat next to him, their thighs pressed close together. Haru offers him another piece with pineapple from his plate. Haru tucks an errant strand of hair behind Makoto's ear and he’s tempted to lick the tiny dribble of pineapple juice from the corner of his mouth but swipes at it instead, sucking it off his thumb. They continue like that; with a quiet Haru alternately feeding Makoto and himself until the plate is cleared.

With breakfast finished and dishes cleaned, Makoto waits at the entryway, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement, urging Haru to put on his shoes faster. Once Haru finishes tying his shoes, he isn't even given time to straighten up before Makoto yanks him out the door.

“Makoto,” he grunts in dismay, “what's the big hurry?"

"There's a plan, Haru-chan! I have a big day planned for you!"

"I rather stay home with you."

Makoto pauses at that. It's tempting to just stay in bed all day with Haru but they do that _way_ too often already and Haru needs some sun. So he continues to pull Haru to the train station. He _will not_ be derailed. He has a birthday date carefully planned and he's going to follow it, dammit!

The train rolls in and Makoto quickly ushers him in. Good thing it's 9am on a weekday. There aren't a lot of passengers as students and business-people had already rushed off to their destinations an hour prior. They grab the window seats and Haru looks out of it with vague disinterest.

He's pulled from his blank staring when he feels Makoto wriggle his hand in his. He looks down at their joined hands and can't stop the obnoxious smile from breaking out. Makoto's hands are so much larger than his own. His fingers are almost as long as Makoto's but Makoto's are meatier and rougher with callouses dotting his knuckles and fingertips.  
He _loves_ his hands and fingers; loves that they're capable of such strength and gentleness. Loves the way he animatedly talks with them. Loves the way he makes him shiver and tremble at the lightest of brushes.

He squeezes their laced hands, "so where are we going?"

Makoto unconsciously strokes his thumb at the webbing where Haru’s thumb and index finger meets. "I can't tell you that, Haru-chan! It's a surprise! But I promise you'll like it."

It's a three hour train ride (and when Haru heard that, he nearly got off the very next stop to go back home but Makoto convinced him to stay—with promises of kisses) and they entertain themselves with random bouts of nothingness. Makoto tells him that his parents sent him some money for new clothes since it's summer. Haru thinks it’s because he can’t get into his shirts without tearing the seams apart, to which he predictably blushes at.

Makoto then tells him that the last time he spoke to the twins, they made him promise to come home with Haru the next time they get a break. The twins miss them. But they mostly miss Haru. Which Haru claims is false because the twins absolutely love their 'bestest big brother' but Makoto easily counters that they love their Haru-chan just as much.

Haru listens intently, occasionally interjecting when appropriate but most of the time, his head rests on Makoto's strong shoulders with Makoto’s hot breath tickling his ear and neck.  
And not once during the entire three hour ride, do their hands pull apart. 

* * *

They finally make it to their destination and when they step off onto the platform, Makoto slips out of Haru's hand to stretch. Haru stretches too but frowns while doing so. He doesn't like the absence of warmth that accompanies the removal of Makoto's hand. He pouts at his Makoto-less hand and he's about to comment on it and possibly take Makoto's hand himself but Makoto slides his hand into his once more. Smiling brightly, he tugs him away from the station.

They find a place to lunch, and Haru becomes extremely lively as this is some of the freshest fish he has had since the last time they were home at Iwatobi. Haru couldn’t seem to decide what he likes best; he goes back and forth between the tuna, bonito, and amberjack. He’s a little annoyed that mackerel isn’t offered but Makoto consoles him by offering him a piece of sea bass. Haru has no choice but to snatch several more pieces from Makoto’s plate while Makoto playfully grumbles about a dark haired, blue eyed fish thief.

After lunch, they walk — hand in hand — around the small port for about an hour and hike up to the bluffs overlooking the ocean. The strong breeze sprays the ocean water on their faces and judging from the look on Haru’s face, he relishes at the feel of the cool, salty water tickling his cheeks. Afterward, they continue to wander around, digesting their lunch before starting the next item on the itinerary: dolphin watching. 

Haru still seems blissfully unaware of the real reason they're here, for which Makoto is thankful for. He _could've_ taken him to the aquarium but those places rub him the wrong way. He knows they're for ' _educational purposes_ ' but honestly, how much can you really learn watching animals born and raised in captivity? His distaste for them applies to zoos too. He doesn't deny that they have their uses — they would be great as sanctuaries for rescued animals — but he's vehemently against breeding. Not to mention, things can get a little — _a lot_ — dangerous when you have a bunch wild animals centralized in one place. So he did some research and dragged them all the way to Choshi so they could get on a boat and observe dolphins in their natural habitat instead.

With Haru bouncing with excitement, they finally board the boat. When they're stopped in relatively calm waters about 30 minutes after their departure, Haru is positively buzzing with energy. He can feel Haru’s body tremble in excitement and Makoto pouts a little at being found out.  
But then Haru begins to finger the buttons of his shirt and he realizes that he was wrong.

So, _so_ wrong.

Makoto grabs his hands, which are now at his pants, "Haru! What are you doing?!"

"Swimming."

"You can't swim here, Haru-chan!"

Haru narrows his eyes in distaste. "Then why did you bring me here?"

"For that!" He points at the dolphins playfully swimming alongside their boat.

Haru follows his finger and inhales sharply at the pod. Streaks of gray dart away from the boat and his eyes quickly scans the water to follow where they've gone. Two dolphins suddenly breach the surface, chattering loudly at each other. Or at them; it doesn't matter because Haru is absolutely entranced by the creatures. He white-knuckles the railing and leans over, seemingly wanting to join them in the water. And he would do it too if it weren't for Makoto's calm hand holding him.

His eyes are wide and full of awe and Makoto can't help but feel a little jealous that Haru doesn't look at him like that. He shakes his head at how ridiculous he's being and brushes it aside. Because while Haru doesn't look at him in awe (that he's noticed), Haru looks at him with a love and tenderness that he can't describe. He chuckles and drops a kiss on his shoulder, nuzzles his neck, arms wrapping around his waist and squeezing his middle.

"They really live up to their prince of the waves nickname, don't they?"

Haru reluctantly tears his eyes away from the playful display the dolphins were putting on and looks at his boyfriend with the love and tenderness Makoto was just thinking about.

“Makoto… I can't believe you did this."

Makoto tucks a stray strand of wind blown hair behind his ear and ends up gently rubbing his earlobe between his fingers. "So you like it?"

"It's perfect. _You're_ perfect. How did you get to be so perfect?"

"I'm glad you like it," he opts to not address on the perfect comment because he's really not. All he wants—all he has ever wanted—is for Haru to be happy.

"This is the best day ever. I'm by the ocean, I get to see dolphins, got to eat a bunch of fish, had my favorite mackerel-pineapple dish for breakfast; made courtesy of my boyfriend." He pauses and strokes his fingers along Makoto's before lacing them together. "And I get to spend it all with Makoto."

Haru slides his body against Makoto’s, fitting into the familiar contours of his frame and sighing in pleasure. Haru brushes a kiss at Makoto's collarbone the same time Makoto's lips grazes his temple.

Haru, convinced that the dolphins can understand him, spends the rest of their time chattering with the dolphins.  
Makoto, finding it too adorable for words, does nothing to dissuade him of that notion.   

* * *

Makoto wakes with a jolt. He swiftly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, positive that he's been drooling. He looks up at the stops left on their trip; they have another ten minutes before they have to get off to walk to the next station.

Haru leans against him heavily, assuming he's asleep, he gently strokes his neck with his thumb. But then Haru shifts against him, rubbing his cheek into his shoulder.

"Thank you for today, Makoto," he murmurs clearly into his chest.

He gives him a sleepy, but no less bright smile. "Anytime, Haru-chan. I'm glad you had fun."

Haru tilts his head and captures Makoto's lips in a firm yet gentle kiss. His tongue strokes at his lower lip, seeking entrance into his warm mouth, and normally, Makoto would have pulled away by now; not because he's embarrassed or because he's hiding the nature of their relationship. If anything, he wants _everyone_ to know he's with the greatest human being he's ever met. But it's because he gets all shy and blubbering with the _types_ of affections Haru showers him with. As they tend to be rather… _suggestive_ and it usually — _very quickly_ — escalates into something _more_.

But not today. It feels like he hasn't kissed Haru all day and he is _starving_ for his touch.

So he invites him in, raking his fingers through Haru's dark, silky strands, he tips his head back to deepen the kiss. Groaning as his tongue dances against Haru's. He lets Haru taste his mouth, lets him curl his tongue around his and stroke the roof of his mouth. He gladly lets him slide his tongue over his teeth and rub his gums. And he too, sucks his tongue into his mouth, teasing his canines and sweeping the underside of his tongue.

It’s slow, methodical, and unhurried; familiar yet exploratory and if there's chatter around them about two boys kissing on the train, he doesn't hear them.

Because he's with Haru. And whenever he's with Haru, the rest of the world fades out of existence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then they had an outrageous amount of birthday sex. _Obviously._  
>  Which, by now, should not come as a surprise to anyone that's been paying attention, is in progress and I will _try_ to post it on June 30th for obvious reasons. It depends how quickly I can get through it. It'll be posted separate from the main fic and will probably get buried under the flurry of Haru birthday fics but it is a thing that will come to fruition. It'll also depend on how much time this stupid work presentation will take me.  
>  So no promises.  
> If I do miss June 30th, you'll just have to use your filthy, _filthy_ imaginations until it gets posted.  
>  Basically, convince me to work faster.
> 
> I think this is about as fluffy as I can get. It's... lacking, I know. I tried.
> 
> The Sousuke-Makoto bromance is real and it's no joke.
> 
> Everyone needs the patience of a saint to deal with any of these dork asses.
> 
> Makoto's extra ingredient is love thing was taken from the end card for [season 1, episode 8](http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/free-anime/images/a/ac/Free!_Episode_8_End_Card.png/revision/20131003154853), obviously. He is just a massive, massive goober.  
> Also, I love, love, _love_ togarashi. If I could, I'd put it in everything.
> 
> Makoto's reservations about zoos and the like are my reservations. I don't deny that there's some good but overall, I don't see the benefits of keeping animals in captivity unless it's a sanctuary.  
> And don't even get me started on SeaWorld.
> 
> Haru has no shame. Assertive Haru is the best kind of Haru. [Praise be.](https://66.media.tumblr.com/892af1dab380933793b5be626f827b6a/tumblr_inline_nvdhw2fbOx1tbs47i_500.gif)  
> But poor, modest Makoto.
> 
> Unrelated but I think I cried all week and I'm just emotionally drained. Angry tears, frustrated tears, sad tears. Just so, so, so exhausted. 
> 
> Sorry for the rambling mess. As you can tell by now, my mind wanders and goes off on wild tangents. It's not great.
> 
> Anyway... One chapter left.


	14. July

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now the end is near  
> And so I face the final curtain
> 
> So, here we are. Last chapter. Surprisingly smut free. Sorry if that disappoints ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

Everyone descends upon Sousuke's flat like vultures scavenging a fresh kill. As a first time visitor, Nagisa bounces from one end of the apartment to the other in barely contained excitement, oo-ing and ah-ing at this and that. While Rei diligently reads the instructions on the game box. Sousuke and Haru are futzing around in the kitchen and, in an unexpected turn of events, Makoto is teasing Rin.  
  
Rin, with the big, prominent, obscene, can’t-miss-it hickey on his jaw. It looks like he got in a bar fight or something but Makoto knows better.

He grins devilishly, "Jesus, Rin. Looks like someone popped you good there. Is it sore? Do you need some ice? It’s gonna swell up if you don’t take care of it. I’m sure Sou's got something that'll ease the pain. Like a steak or something, right, Sousuke?"

“Okay, you know what, Makoto? Fuck you," Rin spits in irritation.

He sinks into the seat cushion, trying to hide himself from prying eyes and cursing Sousuke for marking him somewhere so fucking noticeable. He couldn’t even hide it with his hair!  
_Asshole_.

Makoto waves his hand dismissively, "Not interested. Besides, Sousuke wouldn't like that, would he?"

"Oh my god,” he clutches a pillow at his chest tighter, "I hate you."

"And I would be a terrible friend to Sousuke and an even terrible-r boyfriend to Haru. Don’t be a bad boyfriend Rin.”

Rin throws his head back and groans, “This is payback, isn't it?” He curls up on his side and whimpers pathetically into the pillow.

"Now," Makoto pats him on his arm in a consoling manner, "I know you think I'm attractive, Rin. I mean, I've seen you time and time again gawk at me—you're terrible at hiding that, by the way—and you're not too bad yourself but I'm strictly a one-man man."

Rin pops up from his fetal position and, feeling insulted, snarls in annoyance, "Not too bad?! Not too bad!?! I am hot, okay? No, I am _smoking_ hot!" Rin whips his head in Sousuke's direction and frantically shrieks, "Sousuke! Tell him!"

Sousuke examines him with a discerning eye, his brows furrowing in concentration before finally shrugging flippantly, "Hm, you’re more lukewarm than anything else."

He bolts up from his seat, his face red with raging fury—matching the shade of his hair exactly. "Lu- _lukewarm_?! You fucking asshole!"

Sousuke rubs at his chest absentmindedly, "I'm the hot one,” he corrects Rin.

"Hm," Makoto hums in something sounding like an agreement, “Have you seen Sousuke in his reading glasses yet? When he's being all nerdy?" He smirks at Rin's glassy, wide eyes. Clearly, he hasn't. He wags his eyebrows and crows. He gestures to his mouth, "Rin... A little drool."

A flustered Rin growls at him and tries to discreetly—it’s predictably and laughably not—wipe the corner of his mouth. 

"He's very attractive," Makoto unnecessarily informs him.

The growl at the back of Haru’s throat is aimed at him.

Makoto quickly jumps out of his seat, “No, Haru-chan! I’m kidding! I didn't mean it! I don't find Sousuke attractive at all!" He shoots an apologetic look over at Sousuke who shrugs indifferently; he knows and is very secure in his level of attractiveness. 

Nagisa squeals in enjoyment. "Wow, Mako-chan, you wilted faster than a bouquet of summer flowers in the dead of winter."

"Fell faster than a house of cards,” Sousuke unhelpfully adds. 

"Folded faster than a cheap lawn chair,” Rin sighs in disappointment.

"Hey! Do you know how hard lawn chairs are to fold?"

Rei pushes his glasses up and haughtily interjects, “That's why he said _cheap_ lawn chair."

He gapes at the blue-haired man still reading through the instructions of the game. “You too, Rei?”

He looks up at Makoto and scratches cheek sheepishly, "Um, sorry?"

Rin sucks at his teeth and tsks, “It's not his fault Haru is a possessive asshole. God forbid Makoto find anyone attractive. Or anyone finding Makoto attractive.”

Exacerbated, Haru exhales noisily, “I know perfectly well how attractive Makoto is.”

“H-Haru!" Makoto glows bright red at his bluntness. 

"I see him everyday. Trust me, I know. But they should keep their eyes and comments about his attractiveness to themselves. It's rude. There's so much more to Makoto than just how good he looks in glasses or how muscular he is.”

Nagisa coos in the background about how sweet Haru-chan is being which is pointedly ignored by the man in question.

“Also, it's gross to reduce anyone to just their looks or bodies. As if only attractive people are worthy of our praise and attention."

Rin reclines lazily in his seat, ”I never would have pegged you for a feminist, Haru.”

Haru glares sharply at Rin, “Problem?” 

He raises his hands in surrender, “Woah, easy, guy. No problem at all. I totally agree with you. Just didn't realize you had such a pulse on social issues. Just doesn't seem much like a Haru thing."

Haru scoffs in derision. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me."

Rin rolls his eyes. He's heard this about a million times and isn't particularly itching to get into it again with him. “Yeah, I get it. No one knows you except Makoto."

"Haru-chan has layers," Makoto explains with a goofy smile.

“Oh! Like an orange, Mako-chan?"

Flabbergasted, Rei splutters disbelief at the egregiously inaccurate simile. "An orange only has one layer, Nagisa-kun!"

"You're thinking of an onion,” Makoto corrects, “Right, Haru-chan?"

Haru stares at all of them blankly, his jaw twitching in incredulity, "You're all idiots."

"Haru-chan!" Makoto admonishes playfully, "That's not a very nice thing to say to your friends."

Rin cocks his head and curious, red eyes zero in on Makoto in interest, "Makoto... you're being awfully liberal in your use of Haru-chan. And you!" He points an accusatory finger at Haru, "You're actually allowing it!"

"Aw, Rin!" Makoto gripes in a pout, "Now he's noticed!"

" _Noticed_?" Haru's eyes narrow dangerously but Makoto doesn't look the least bit fazed. "Makoto... Don't tell me... Have you been calling me that on _purpose_?"

Makoto purses his lips and hems and haws until finally he scrunches his face and scratches his cheek. "I may have been... purposely calling you Haru-chan to see how long I can get away with it before you tell me to 'lay off the -chan,'" he flattens his voice to imitate Haru, "For the past few weeks. Months." He shrugs and admits, "Since we've been together."

" _Makoto_."

"It wasn't intentional. It's just… Well, one day, you didn't tell me to 'lay off the -chan’ until, like, the tenth time I did it... so I sort of made it into an… experiment. To see how many times I can get away with it before you tell me off." He smiles proudly as he announces his findings, "I’ve found that the average is about five."

Haru's brows furrow, deep creases forming at his forehead as realization dawns. "That's why you're always smirking!" He throws a pillow at Makoto's head, mussing his shaggy hair even more. "I thought I was missing something important." 

Makoto turns his nose up, "I apologize for nothing."

“Idiot,” he grabs another throw pillow and chucks it at him. 

Sousuke re-enters into the living room, with several full bowls of snacks and drinks on hand. The six of them huddle around the coffee table and Rei explains the rules to the others. After a few false starts (Rin keeps cheating—feigning ignorance at first and then accusing Rei of not explaining the rules clearly—"I've already told you twice! You can only draw one card at a time! It's not a difficult concept to comprehend, Rin-san!"), the game is underway. Things are going well until Makoto cleans Rin out of supplies and blocks him from obtaining more for several turns.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Makoto. You are ruthless. How is someone as precious as you so ruthless? Did anyone else know about this?” The chorus of yeses startles him. "What? Wait, even Sousuke?"

Sousuke leans into his palm, tapping his cards on the wooden table in boredom, “Well, yeah. If he's not with Haru fucking each other's brains out, he's with me."

Makoto is extremely tempted to Sousuke him but refrains from doing so in lieu of starting up yet another round of teasing.

"Fucking each other's brains out?" Nagisa waggles his eyebrows in a clear attempt to rile up Makoto.  
Or Haru.  
Or Rin. Take your fucking pick. But surprisingly, none of them rise to the bait.

In an exaggerated, put-upon sigh, Sousuke wistfully intones, "That's the dream. But he's too much of a tease, so nothing so far." 

"Sousuke..." Rin growls lowly in his throat.

_Oh good, someone Sousuke'd him for him._  

"Hm. I still like it better when Makoto says my name like that."

"If you like it like that, you should hear how I say Haru's name."

" _Makoto_."

Makoto flinches the unexpected tone from Haru. “Oh... Wow. I've never heard my name like that. ...So that’s what it feels like. That's... interesting."

Rei, having zero interest in this particular line of conversation, quickly steers their attention back on the game because, "Clearly I'm winning and I shall finally defeat Makoto-senpai if it's the last thing I do on this earth!"

The game continues when Sousuke reluctantly agrees (read: Rin demands) to trade some supplies to Rin in return for food. The rest of the players roll their eyes and mock the two of them. 

"You would help your _boyfriend_ out,” someone smirks mockingly.

“Oh sure, ask your _boyfriend_ to help,” another one delightfully adds.

“Lame. What’s the matter? Can’t get through one round without your _boyfriend_ holding your hand?” a third snickers.

"Honestly, I expected this kind behavior out of, say, Nagisa-kun but not of someone of your caliber Rin-san. And Sousuke-san, I can't believe you would allow Rin-san to cheat you out of rightfully traded food. You should only trade what you can afford. Frankly, I'm quite disappointed in your lack of competitive spirit," a fourth expresses his unsolicited opinion.

Sousuke grits his teeth for the rest of the round while Rin, red-faced and bitter, lobs random and unrelated insults at the rest of them. Baring his teeth, in particular, at Rei for the perceived betrayal felt from Rei taking their side and joining in on their asshole-ishness.

_We're supposed to be kindred, dammit!_

Haru then spares a glance at the stockpile of cards sitting neatly in front of Makoto when two minutes ago, he had a grand total of four and shakes his head, "You're such a tease, Makoto."

Sousuke releases an undignified snort. “And you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Haruka?"

Makoto's head snaps up in Sousuke's direction. “Don't call him that,” he rumbles deeply. 

Confusion breaks over Sousuke's face, "What?" 

Makoto's voice drops, suddenly teetering on dangerous, "Don't call him Haruka, Sousuke." 

Sousuke's brow arches at being confronted by the unusual tone, confusion still obvious on his face. "Why the hell not? What's it to you? Wha— Oh." He smirks, teal eyes laughing and twinkling under the harsh fluorescent lights. His gleaming eyes dart between Makoto and Haru and he chuckles darkly. He folds his arms across his expansive chest and slouches back. "I see how it is. I get it. Well... Isn't this interesting," his smirk growing wider.

Rin's eyes plays ping pong between the three while Nagisa is grinning like an idiot and Rei pretends to clean his glasses in irritation at the game play being detracted yet again. “Get what? I don't understand." 

Sousuke doesn't looks at him but pats his knee reassuringly (more like condescendingly), "Don't worry, Rin. You don't need to know.” His eyes stay trained on the (formerly) gentle giant sitting across from him, "I must say, Makoto, I never would have thought you had it in you. And you!" He swivels his head to Haru, “I’m very surprised at you, Haruka..." 

"Sousuke," Makoto growls menacingly. 

"Makoto," his tone is infuriatingly light and it makes Makoto irrationally frustrated. "You know, I use it to annoy him. But now, I might start doing it just to annoy you."

Rin's patience runs out, the conversation completely lost to him. "Okay, just what in the ever loving fuck is going on?! What are you talking about?"

"Rin, stay out of it," Makoto directs. 

Rin sputters indignantly, "Excuse me? I'm not staying out of shit! Not when two of my friends are about to get into a stupid fight!" 

Sousuke's calm and flippant voice doesn't match the hot, tense air, "What are you talking about? There's no fight. Makoto and I are having a calm, civil conversation, is all."

Red eyes narrow, "Exactly what about this entire situation is calm and civil to you?!"

“You know, it's my name," Haru finally interjects in exasperation.  

Sousuke rolls his head towards Haru, “You know what? You're absolutely right. Let's ask Haru. _Ka_." 

Haru sucks his teeth in annoyance, "Stop saying my name like that." 

"But why, Haru- _ka_?"

His eye twitches involuntarily, "You obviously know why. Now stop. It." 

"I don't think I will. Wanna share with the rest of the class, Haruk—" he's cut off when Makoto flings a throw pillow at Sousuke's head. "Okay, ow. And unnecessary."

"You're making Haru uncomfortable."

"Oh, please."

"I have all the pillows. Are you going to stop?" 

"You know, this is _my_ home. And you're being very rude to your host." Makoto remains unmoved so Sousuke rolls his eyes and agrees to a truce. "For now. Can't promise I won't do it the next time." The three of them settle back, hackles no longer raised but relaxed instead.

Rin, however, doesn't drop whatever the fuck just happened. "What the fuck was that about?!"

Nagisa reaches over and pats Rin on the head, "Don't worry, Rin-Rin. One day, when you grow up, you'll understand." 

He bats his hand away furiously. "What the fuck?! You understood what that was all about?!"

"It's... quite obvious, Rin-san,” Rei pushes his glasses back onto his face.

Rin stutters gracelessly, "What the fuck? You too?!"

Nagisa pinches his cheeks and fawns over him. "Aw, that is so cute! Rin-chan is such an innocent little snowflake! Sou-chan, you mustn’t corrupt him with your brutishness!"

Rin bats his hands away and shoves him off him. "Oh, fuck off, you assholes. Whatever. I don't want to know anyway!"

Game night proceeds after that with Rin still glowering at the rest of them, discontent swirling in his stomach at the fact that they all seem to know something he didn't. Assholes.

The game ends fairly soon after that kerfuffle as Makoto systematically demolishes them: Nagisa is the first to fall (he headbutts Makoto's arm, demanding a re-do because "Mako-chan is just so mean!"), followed closely by a displeased and grumbling Sousuke. Haru, resigned to his fate, dropped any and all pretenses of actually trying and is dispatched summarily. Rin, who is still simmering, stomps off in a huff when he's left penniless, and Rei, who was so, so close in beating Makoto but at the last minute, falls prey to Makoto's deviously masterful machinations.

Rei crumples in anguish, bemoaning over how he had "The optimal game plan and an 82.4% win probability before the start of the last round! I have besmirched the Ryuugazaki name by having victory snatched from the jaws of defeat!"  
Rei can be so melodramatic sometimes.

After the game ends, they lounge around to watch the movie Sousuke picked out (it was his turn to choose) and 30 minutes in, it becomes painfully obvious that it's a preposterously sappy American film that takes place in 19th century France. Five pairs of amused eyes land on him and he squirms in embarrassment in his seat.

"I do not normally judge people for liking what they like and it really is your prerogative to like... this particular genre, but, Sousuke-san..." Rei hastily pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "this is not beautiful at all!" He waves his arms inarticulately at the screen, "The plot makes no sense! The characters have zero development!"

"Not to mention it's filled historical inaccuracies," Nagisa pipes up.

"Yes! Thank you, Nagisa-kun, I was just getting to that." 

"I didn't know what this was!" He grabs the Blu-Ray box and shoves it in their faces, " _Look_! How was I supposed to know it was a freaking sappy love flick?!"

Admittedly, he has a point. The cover is very misleading with a dark, shadowy figure lurking on the edges of the poster. If anything, it looks more like a horror-slasher-supernatural film.

"This is false advertising!" 

They don't care though. They keep sneaking mocking glances at him and snickering and aww-ing and cooing and fucking cackling whenever something sickeningly romantic happens on screen. They crow and even go as far as acting out the scene in Japanese. Except, they replace the characters' names with his and Rin’s in the scenario and he swears he's going to kick all these assholes out.   
Even Rin. Because instead of being embarrassed like he expected him to, he's laughing along with them. Yeah, definitely kicking him out too. Let him sleep in the disgustingly humid, sweltering July heat. This is his apartment, dammit. Fuck that shit.

They watch the movie through to the end, much to Sousuke's chagrin. Well, Haru, Makoto, Rin, and Sousuke do; Nagisa and Rei passes out sometime before the third act, tired from the traveling. Mostly to watch Sousuke squirm uncomfortably in his seat and huff in despair when something particularly melodramatic/sappy happens over the course of his movie of choice. 

The credits mercifully roll and Sousuke digs himself out of the cushions he's been hiding himself in. After that, the three help Sousuke tidy up the apartment, disposing trash and recycling empty bottles and cans. 

Makoto stretches and yawns, “We should get going. We've got an appointment to look at an apartment in the morning." 

Sousuke flexes his arm, shaking out the remnants of the pins and needles sensation after it had fallen asleep during the movie. "You're looking for a new apartment?" 

"Again? That's, like, three apartments in less than a year, Haru," Rin gapes incredulously.  

Haru shifts nonchalantly. "What's your point? Home is where Makoto is."

" Haru …” Makoto shakes his head and clears throat. Now isn’t the time to get all… **_swoon-y_**. “We’re trying to find a place with a bigger tub. We’ve been talking about it for months but we're just getting around to it now."

Sousuke flex his fingers, encouraging blood flow to return to his currently useless limb and offers, “There’s an apartment that's about to go for rent here." 

Haru’s eye twitches perplexed, “What’s your point?"

"My point _,"_ he outright growls  at Haru, "is that the tubs here are pretty big."

If he's proposing what he thinks he's proposing... Haru scoffs loudly at the preposterous suggestion, "I don’t want to live any closer to you than is necessary."

Sousuke rolls his eyes. Nanase has the unique ability to annoy him with a mere look. It is truly teeth grating. He growls again, “Would you just look at it first? I’m just saying, I can fit comfortably in it and there’s still plenty of space."

“Fine,” Haru grumbles and stomps down toward the bathroom.

Upon swinging the door open and entering, Haru’s eyes glimmer, his breath shortens, and his heart rate quickens. He reaches behind him and grabs Makoto's wrist, "Makoto. I want it." 

"O-okay…"

He clutches Makoto’s forearm, “Make Sousuke switch apartments with us."

"I just said there’s an apartment for rent!"

He turns to narrow his eyes at Sousuke, "I want this one."

“Well, you can’t have it!"

“Makoto.” _I want it._

Makoto rubs his temples, the beginnings of a massive headache starting to creep behind his eyes, "Haru, I’m not going to ask Sousuke to swap with us. That’s a unreasonable request!"

"You don’t want it anyway." Sousuke claims, "I’ve had sex in it. Lots of sex. An outrageous amount of sex. Just… so much sex. Filthy, filthy sex."

_More like a filthy, filthy lie._

"With Rin?” Haru challenges flatly with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes. Exactly. With Rin."

_Not even remotely the true._

"What?!! NO!” Appalled, Rin shoves Sousuke roughly. "Not me! Don’t drag me into your dumb, petty ass bullshit! You shit hole."

"Haru, we'll take a look at the apartment here, okay? There's no need to kick Sousuke out of his." 

"I'll put in a good word with the landlady. She likes me."

Makoto glances at him, a tiny smirk appearing at the corners of his mouth. “Does she like you because of you or the fact that you never wear a shirt?"

Sousuke straightens up defensively, unfolding his arms and snaps at Makoto indignantly. “Hey! I wear shirts! They may be a bit… form-fitting and thin whenever I go to her for help with something but they’re shirts!"

Rin snorts but Makoto nods gratefully, “Thanks, Sousuke." 

"Right. Well, we'll be going now!” Makoto leads Haru out of the bathroom and loiters at the genkan to get their shoes on. "Lunch tomorrow?"

“Yeah,” Sousuke leans against the wall and glances at his living room. "Hey, wait! Take those two with you!"

Haru snorts in amusement, “What? No. They're passed out. They’re never going to wake up. We’re not carrying them." 

"You just want them out of here so you can have sex,” Makoto mutters amusingly.  

Rin and Sousuke respond simultaneously in diametrically different tones. "What? No!"—“Yes! Take them!"

“Sousuke!” Rin pinches him.

Haru eyes the lumps spread out on Sousuke's living roon in disinterest and firmly intones, “No." 

Makoto slips into his shoes. "Have fun with your cockblockers."

Rin flails and splutters, this really is payback. “You—! Makoto!" He glares at the snickering Sousuke, "Stop encouraging him!"

"We're going to go home and have sex,” Haru informs the room.

“Haru!" 

"Because we don't have cockblockers there,” he continues. 

“Haru!” Makoto sighs in resignation and hangs his head. “Good night! Thanks for hosting, Sousuke! See you tomorrow. Rin, you have next pick!"

Haru snorts loudly, “It’ll probably be even sappier and cornier than the one Sousuke picked."

“Shut up, Haru!"

Rin slams the door on the pair of dumb, idiotic grins and turns back to glare at the two _other_ idiots sleeping on the floor. _Damn it.  
_

Sousuke bumps his shoulder against Rin's. "Think you can be quiet?” Sousuke teases.

“What? SHUT UP, SOUSUKE!"

* * *

And Sousuke, being the great friend that he is, gets them an appointment to see the apartment the very next day. Makoto roams around, shuffling from room to room. It's not as spacious as their current apartment—the communal rooms are just a bit more cramped but it's Tokyo and it's pointless to complain about such things. Besides, the kitchen is roomier—which Haru will like—and the bedroom is more than big enough for the two of them. Best of all? The rent is only a few hundred yen more.

"What do you think Haru? ...Haru?” He swings his head but can’t seem to find him.

_Bathroom_.

He smiles disarmingly at the building manager. "I'll be right back."

Makoto wanders into the bathroom and finds Haru sitting in tub with a small smile tickling his lips. Haru looks up upon hearing Makoto chuckling. 

"Makoto. Come sit with me."

"Haru." He shakes his head, enjoying Haru’s excitement. He didn’t want to join him in the tub because it would be inappropriate but a larger part of him — the part that controls basic motor functions — did. So he excitedly climbs in the opposite end. 

He reaches down and strokes the exposed skin of Haru's ankle, “Don't you want to see the rest of the apartment? 

Haru shakes his head. He lays his head on his knees and returns the favor by curling his fingers around Makoto's wrist. "It doesn't matter. The tub is perfect. We both fit. And as long as I'm with you, the rest doesn't matter." 

Makoto predictably flushes bright red, “Then how about we fill out the application." 

He climbs out of the tub before they end up doing something wildly inappropriate but Haru tugs his jeans as soon as he's out. Haru waves at him so he squats down until they're leveled, "What is it, Haru?"

“Makoto," he chews his lip as he thinks. Lifting his head, he quickly pecks Makoto on the mouth, "I know we don't need to say it; that we've never had to... But I _want_ to... I love you, Makoto."

Makoto's breaks out into an uncontrollable smile, "I know. I love you, Haru." He then snickers loudly and Haru frowns. 

"What's so funny?"

"I just... I never thought that we'd say our first, official I love yous in a bathroom. In a tub no less. Although, it does make a certain amount of sense."

_It really does. The pool would have made sense too._

Curiosity seizes him. Makoto has thought about this before? "How'd you think our first, official I love yous would have gone?" Makoto bites his lip while grinning, his lids droop over the vibrant green eyes that are gleaming brighter than usual and Haru already regrets asking. 

"It differs slightly. Sometimes you're riding me. Other times I'm riding you. But it's always in the middle of a particularly intense round of—"

Haru shoves him away and Makoto lands in his ass. He ignores his pouty ow and sinks into the giant tub. "Okay, you can get out now."

Makoto chuckles at Haru's bashfulness and gets to his feet. Dropping a quick kiss at the crown of his head, he turns to the door. "I'll tell the manager we'll take it. When you're done sulking, come out and we'll fill and sign the paperwork."

"I'm not sulking!" He pauses and adds, "Idiot," for good measure. 

His tinkling laughter fills him with warmth and makes him feel like he's floating. "I love you too, Haru." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOURIN FINALLY APPEARS!!! 
> 
> Well, that was a fun ride (phrasing), wasn't it? That's all folks! I'll probably still end up playing around in this universe though. 
> 
> Above all, thanks to those who visited and stayed. Your comments and kudos meant a lot. So thanks to those who offered all your kind words of support and encouragement and all that jazz. So, yeah, thanks for all the love. See you next time!
> 
> Oh, and P.S., they bang each other's brains out upon moving in. As in they bone in every room and flat surface available. Cleaning was fun. Thought that might be of interest to you. ;)


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